


The Herd of Durin

by DomesticGoddess



Series: Centaurs of Middle Earth [2]
Category: The Hobbit
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Branding, Centaur AU, Cultural Differences, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Pony!Bilbo, Public Sex, Slavery, centaur sex, language barriers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-05-01 03:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 90,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticGoddess/pseuds/DomesticGoddess
Summary: Thorin's herd is the last of the Durin Tribe. Between dwindling food supplies, a mare shortage, and an increasing human population, Thorin has his hands full trying to keep his herd alive. Thorin knows, despite his best efforts, its only a matter of time before the Khuzd centaurs face extinction. At least, he though he did. Everything changes when he discovers a strange little pony centaur who smells like a mare, but looks like a stallion.





	1. The Stallion Mare

Thorin and Dwalin walked along the hunting trail through the woods. They were the current hunting party out and the best hunters of their herd. They had already nabbed a wild pig and a boar, but they were hoping for at least one more kill before returning to their camp.

"The game gets more and more scarce every year." Grunted Dwalin. 

Thorin nodded gravely. Theirs was already the last herd of the Durin tribe, and their herd was dwindling as it was. Many of their stallions had opted to travel to other herds in areas where the game was supposedly more plentiful. 

Thorin knew better. The humans continued to multiply everywhere. Even with the non-hunting pact, in which the humans agreed to not hunt the wild game, the humans still required large amount of space for growing their crops and thus were encroaching on the natural territories of the wild game. And there were always poachers who went unrestrained.

As a result, the game populations were dropping and herds were forced to travel farther and hunt wider ranges. Thorin suspected there were few regions that weren't feeling the same effects of the rapid increase of humans as theirs.

Still, Thorin would never restrict his people from the possibility of more plentiful lands. And there was always the hope of finding a mare that drove many stallions to venture out. 

Even more worrisome than the dwindling food supply was the rapid decline in mare populations. Even Thorin's heard, though prestigious in its own right, had only two mares in it. 

No, Thorin suspected the Khuzd centaurs would die out long before their hunting game did. And he couldn't even blame that on the humans.

Dwalin interrupted Thorin's musings with a slap to the arm. "You hear that?" 

Thorin stopped along side Dwalin and listened. Just when he was going to ask Dwalin what he was talking about, a distressed squeal reached their ears. 

Thorin instantly dropped the rope tied to the pig he had been dragging and took off in the direction of the squeal. Dwalin followed suit and was hot on his heels. 

They broke through the trees and stopped on a hill overlooking a human settlement. Another squeal had them directing their gazes to a large paddock where there seemed to be several Domestics. 

In the center on the paddock was a small centaur tied to a tall post. The centaur's arms were tied high above its head to make it difficult to kick or buck and it was surrounded by several larger Domestics. 

It took Thorin a moment to process just what he was seeing, when he did, his furry burned hot. Despite being tied, the little centaur was doing its best to buck and kick at the others who were cautiously trying to mount it. 

"That's no Domestic mare." Dwalin concluded. "They're trying to force a mating!" 

Thorin was off before Dwalin could even finish, barreling toward the paddock with Dwalin close behind. They vaulted over the paddock fence just as the three domestic stallions had managed to gang up on the little mare so one of them could mount her. She squealed in protest. 

Thorin didn't even slow down. He slammed into the domestic stallion who was trying to mount her, knocking him off the mare as well as his own feet. The mare squealed in fright and confusion, nearly losing her own balance from the impact.

The domestic stallions momentarily backed off to regroup and assess their chances. Domestics were taller then the Khazad, but were only trained in manual labor. The Khazad were shorter, but built heavy and solid and were trained in combat and hunting. 

Dwalin alone held them off easily enough while Thorin turned to let loose the mare. He slit the rope tying the poor mare, freeing her from the post but not loosing her hands. He could deal with that later. 

He grabbed the mare, who was really little more than a pony, by the arm and started to guide her back the way he and Dwalin had come. Once he knew she would follow, he let go and moved to lead. Dwalin turned to follow after the pony mare, defending their retreat. 

Thorin vaulted back over the fence expecting to be followed, only to be met with another frightened squeal. He spinned around. The pony hadn't been able to jump the fence and was dancing and rearing nervously, trying to find a way over the fence. 

Dwalin had spun around and met the three Domestic stallions who had been emboldened by the potential loss of their mare. He drew out his war hammers to ward them off. 

Thorin sprinted back to the fence section just off to the side of where the pony was still dancing nervously. He spun just before reaching the fence and gave a powerful kick. The top board of the fence gave a mighty crack as nearly the whole piece went flying into the paddock. 

The loud noise startled the three Domestics. Dwalin took advantage of the distraction and started to lead the pony back out into the paddock to get a running start for the fence. 

Thorin pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow as the Domestics recovered and pursued Dwalin and the pony. He aimed for the leader's rump. A shot to the rump wouldn't kill a centaur, but it would hurt like Mahal's hammer.

Thorin released his arrow just as Dwalin started to turn the pony around to aim at the fence. The lead Domestic reared with a pained squeal distracting the other two with him. Dwalin took the opportunity and gave the poor pony's rump a hard slap. 

The pony cried out in surprise but sprinted towards the fence all the same. Dwalin followed after him. By the time the Domestics got themselves back together, the pony was already launching himself over the broken fence. 

The poor pony was clearly already tired from fending off the larger stallions and he only just barely cleared the lower fence section as his hind hooves tapped the board. The pony stumbled as he landed and Thorin reached out and grabbed an arm to steady him. 

Dwalin landed only seconds behind him and followed behind as Thorin guided the pony into the woods back to the trail they had left. They stopped long enough to grab the game Thorin and Dwalin had left behind and cut the pony's hands loose before they continued down the trail at a brisk canter. 

After about fifteen minutes, the pony was panting and starting to lag behind, so Thorin brought them to a stop. The pony leaned against a tree tried to catch his breath while Dwalin came over to stand beside Thorin. 

**"Our mare looks an awful lot like a stallion."** Dwalin spoke in their native Khuzdul. **"Has a sheath and everythin'."**

Thorin side-eyed him, then went back to studying the pony centaur. **"I noticed."**

**"Sure smells like a mare in season though."** Dwalin continued. **"Ya think it's some kind of artificial scentin'? Can the humans do that?"**

**"For what purpose? What do they gain by scenting a stallion to smell like a mare?"** Thorin continued his study. The pony was small, even shorter than a Khuzd centaur, and not just shorter but slighter. A bit stockier than a Domestic maybe, but nowhere near as bulky as a Khuzd. 

His coloring was difficult to pinpoint considering the dull, untended condition of his coat, but he guessed it might be a lighter chestnut color. His hair, mane, and tail were terribly matted and unkempt. And curly! He had never seen such curly hair on a centaur before, even the hair around his hooves was curly! 

**"Well, why don't we just ask him?"** Dwalin interrupted his observations. "Hey! Why do ya smell like a mare? The humans do it?" He belted out at the pony before Thorin could stop him.

The pony looked at them uncertainty. "_____ ___." He spoke in a smooth foreign language and gave a small polite bow. 

Thorin and Dwalin stared at the pony in disbelief.

"He don't speak Westron? Who doesn't speak Westron. Even we speak Westron!" Dwalin voiced loudly with a gesture of disbelief.

"__ _____, __ _____!" The pony spoke again with his head lowered and fidgeting nervously. 

Thorin felt an instinctive rise of protectiveness towards the pony. "Quiet!" He ordered lowly. "You're upsetting him."

"So, what? He's not a mare." Dwalin shrugged him off. 

"If this was the humans' doing, the scent should have faded by now. Something else is going on here." 

"Easy enough to find out." Dwalin walked over and approached the pony from the rear. 

The pony watched him uneasily, but stayed where he was.

Before Thorin could ask what he was doing, Dwalin reached out and ran his hand down the side of the pony's rump in a universal gesture of mating interest. 

The pony studied him a moment without a reply, though his tail lifted and moved to the side reflexively. Dwalin's nostrils flared and his pupils dilated, but he patiently waited for a response. 

Thorin stood shocked in outrage. Even if the pony was a mare, he had just been tied to a post and almost forcefully mated (possibly successfully for all they knew), now was not the time for making advances. 

Thorin conveniently ignored the fact that he was upset because it was Dwalin who was propositioning the pony and not himself. 

Thorin felt immeasurably relieved when the pony politely lowered his head and side-stepped his rear away from Dwalin, the universal gesture of disinterest. 

Dwalin bowed his head slightly in acceptance and backed away non-threateningly. 

"What was that?" Thorin growled when Dwalin returned to his side. 

Dwalin shrugged. "The fastest way to find out what he is." 

"And?" Thorin wasn't pacified in the least.

"I don't know how, but he's as much mare as he is stallion, maybe even more. And he's definitely in season." Dwalin answered. "I've never smelled such a strong heat scent. Almost made me hope he'd say yes." 

Thorin glared at him. He had known instinctively that the pony was a mare, but he was relieved all the same to have it confirmed. "Have you ever heard of such a thing? A stallion mare?" 

"Can't say I have. Balin might know something." He said stroking his beard in thought. "We bringing him back?" 

"Of course we are. Stallion parts or no, he's still a mare. Mares are too hard to come by to pass up." Thorin tried to sound uninterested.

"Right." Dwalin looked at him knowingly. "It's not cause you fancy him or nothin'." 

Thorin glared at him harder, but didn't try to deny it. His interest was already clearly visible. He approached the pony as non-threatening as possible. 

It must not have been enough, because the little pony still danced around nervously. His reaction only further confirmed his mare status. Mares could instinctively identify lead stallions. The pony lowered his head respectfully. 

Thorin reached out and gently lifted the pony's head by his chin. When the pony shyly made eye contact, Thorin gestured to himself, "Thorin," then to Dwalin, "Dwalin." He raised his brows and waited for a response.

The pony studied him. "Thorin," he repeated with a gentle accent. "Dwalin," he glanced over at Dwalin. 

Thorin nodded approvingly. 

The pony gestured to himself, "Bilbo." 

"Bilbo," Thorin repeated liking the way it flowed of his tongue. Thorin turned to face the direction the trail ran. "Come?" He asked holding out an arm in invitation.

Bilbo hesitated for only a moment before he nodded and stepped up beside Thorin. 

Thorin started leading them back down the trail again, while Dwalin returned to his spot in the rear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. :)


	2. The Hunting Trip

They had only walked for about half-an-hour, when a loud rumbling got their attention.

Thorin and Dwalin both stared at the little pony.

Bilbo blushed and fidgeted in place, "_____."

Thorin huffed a laugh. "Dwalin?"

"All I've got is a few pieces of jerky. From the looks of him, he's gonna need more than that."

Dwalin was right. The pony looked like he'd missed a few too many meals. His ribs were far more visible than they should be. "It's a start."

Dwalin walked up, pulling a few pieces of jerky out of a pouch around his waist. He held them out to the pony.

Bilbo examined the offering, but didnt take it. He studied Dwalin, cast a brief glance at Thorin then back to the jerky. His tail swished nervously as he cautiously backed away shaking his head.

Dwalin looked at Thorin and raised a brow.

Thorin huffed and took the jerky. He stepped up to the little pony offering him the jerky again. "You can take it." Thorin knew he wouldn't understand his words, but hoped he would hear the permission in his tone.

The pony looked at him uncertainly then back at the jerky. He slowly took it, shyly glancing up at Thorin. "_____ ___." He mumbled in his strange tongue. 

Thorin studied him a moment. Something felt off about the pony's behavior, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He nodded and turned to walk down the path again. The others moved to follow.

They had been walking for another ten minutes when he looked back to check on the pony. He was still holding the jerky, occasionally taking the tiniest nibbles off a piece of it.

Thorin stopped and turned to study him. The pony startled at Thorin's sudden reversal, and turned sheepish under Thorin's stare.

Dwalin caught up to them, now also noticing the uneaten jerky. "He can't possibly not know it's food."

"He knows it's food. But you don't eat meat do you?" Thorin answered Dwalin before addressing the pony. 

The pony looked at him, biting his bottom lip nervously, clearly wishing he could understand what Thorin was saying.

Thorin held his hand back out for the jerky which the pony gave back readily and handed it back to Dwalin.

"If he don't eat meat, then what are we supposed to feed him? That's nearly all we got." Dwalin voiced. "We don't have grains like the humans feed the Domestics or greens like the tree-shaggers eat." 

Dwalin sounded annoyed, but Thorin knew he was just concerned. For the Khazad, it was a stallion's pride to ensure the mares and foals of the herd were protected and well-cared for. "I'm sure we can get our hands on whatever he eats somehow, we just need to figure out what it is." 

He thought for a moment before making sure he had the ponies attention. He brought his hand to his mouth in a simple gesture for 'eat' then pointed at the pony with a raised brow. "What do you eat?" He said as he repeated the motions.

It only took the pony a second to catch what the stallion was saying. His eyes lit up with understanding. He cupped his hands and made a spherical shape indicating something round, then pointed up at a nearby tree's branches. "_____." He repeated it again when the stallions didn't respond.

"Something round . . from a tree." Dwalin was already unimpressed.

Hearing Dwalin made it click in Thorin's head. "Fruit. He eats fruit." He relaxed his arms he had crossed while studying the pony's motions.

Dwalin made a sound of disgust. "Who would eat that when you can eat meat?" 

Thorin looked at Dwalin in amusement. "Have you ever tried fruit?"

"Like I said, 'who would eat that when you can eat meat.'"

Thorin shook his head at him. "We'll head off the path. We need to find another kill anyway, maybe we'll find him a fruit tree while we're hunting. I'll carry what we have. One of us will need to stay with him." 

"Which will be you, of course." Dwalin teased as he hoisted their game onto Thorin's back.

"It makes no difference to you. You've already been rejected." Thorin jabbed back as he helped tie the game to his back.

"Aye, but he could always change his mind tomorrow." Dwalin teased back.

Thorin glared at him. Technically, as lead stallion, he could claim first right to any mare. Though he could still be refused, it would prevent other stallions in the herd from approaching the mare while he tried to earn her approval. 

He had never done it before because he felt it was an abuse of power and had no intention of starting now. Fortunately, he knew Dwalin was just messing with him and would never swoop in under him if he knew Thorin was interested.

"Somehow I doubt we're gonna get anything with him with us. If he doesn't eat meat, I'm sure he's never hunted either. He'll probably scare half the forest away." Dwalin mused as he finished securing the game on Thorin's back. 

"We'll do what we can." Thorin turned to the pony, who had been watching them with interest. He gestured for Dwalin to lead and gently grabbed the pony's arm to lead him off the path. 

As Thorin and Bilbo followed a little ways behind Dwalin, Thorin caught Bilbo's inquisitive eyes and put a finger to his lips as a sign for silence. The pony's eyes widen slightly, still curious, and he nodded. 

Thorin released him, trusting that he would stay close. They walked for a little while, making as little noise as possible. Thorin and Dwalin's eyes and ears alert for any game in the area. 

Suddenly, Thorin realized he couldn't hear the pony walking beside him and looked back in alarm, thinking he had lost him.

The pony startled at Thorin's sudden movement, but still didn't make a sound. Thorin looked at him. How could the pony be so quiet? He was even quieter in the brush than Thorin or Dwalin and they were seasoned hunters. The pony had been practically noiseless.

Dwalin had noticed that they had stopped and turned to see why. "Everything alright?" He called softly.

Thorin turned back around to start walking again. "Aye, the pony's quieter then we are."

Dwalin raised his brows and focused both his horse ears on the pony as he walked. "No kidding. Why would a fruit eater need to be so quiet?" He wondered quietly as he continued to lead.

"He's small and doesn't seem to be trained to fight. Perhaps his kind avoids predators this way." There were few predators that dared to hunt centaur, but wargs and the occasional wolf pack could pose a threat. Humans and other centaurs were really the greatest threat for any centaur, but perhaps for a smaller race there would be more threats.

They continued moving quietly through the woods for about another half-hour before the stallions picked up any signs of game. Dwalin quietly nocked an arrow, homing in on the wild pig he had noticed.

Thorin stopped and stepped closer to the pony, who was looking around wondering what was going on. Thorin didn't know how he would respond to a hunt, so he stayed close.

Dwalin let loose an arrow, which was followed by a squeal from the pig who took off, not felled immediately. Dwalin took off after it. 

Bilbo had jumped at the sound of the distressed pig and was looking at Thorin concerned. 

Thorin leaned over and stroked the pony's back softly in reassurance. The pony settled and stepped closer until he was flush against Thorin's flank, soaking up the comfort.

Dwalin reamerged from the trees a few minutes later balancing the pig on his back. He saw the pony huddled up next to Thorin and raised his brows. "You've been busy. I was only gone a few minutes."

Thorin ignored him and stepped up to help Dwalin secure the pig. Bilbo followed close behind. "Now we just need to find a fruit tree." Thorin concluded.

Dwalin snorted. "It'd be easier to find another pig." He grumbled.

"Then maybe we should let the fruit-eater lead." Thorin said as he turned to Bilbo. Thorin immatated Bilbo's sign for fruit then pointed to his nose, then to Bilbo, then into the woods. "You lead for fruit."

Bilbo watched him closely, trying to piece together what he was saying. He furrowed his brows in concentration as Thorin repeated the signs, but this time gently pushing Bilbo to the front ahead of the stallions. 

Thorin purposely avoided standing right behind the pony, so he wouldn't misunderstand Thorin's intentions. Thorin moved to stand next to, but just behind, the pony to indicate he would follow. 

The pony no longer looked confused, but uncertain about his position in the lead. When the pony still wouldn't move, Dwalin walked up and gave a firm slap to the pony's rear.

The pony jumped and whinnied in surprise, but only went a few steps before reaching back and rubbing his rear where Dwalin had hit him. He glared at Dwalin before turning back around to lead the way.

Thorin punched Dwalin in the arm as a rebuke.

"What?! Ya wanted him ta move, didn't ya?!" He said rubbing his arm.

Thorin glared at him, besides Dwalin being rude, he didn't want Dwalin's hands on the pony's rear.

Bilbo snorted and swished his tail, satisfied with Dwalin's punishment.

Bilbo lead them through the woods in seemingly no particular direction. His pony ears were alert, one focused on the stallions behind him and the other swiveling around constantly, but it seemed to be his nose he was following. After about ten minutes, he stopped and sniffed the air. 

He turned to his right and walked for a few more minutes, the stallions close behind, before he took of towards a large group of prickly bushes. 

By the time they caught up to him, he was already stripping berries of the bush and popping them in his mouth. He was so preoccupied, he hadn't noticed that he was sharing the bush.

Suddenly, a large bear stood up on the other side of the bushes and roared at the intruder.

Bilbo reared and squealed in fright.

Thorin moved in grabbing the pony before he could bolt, while Dwalin charged forward making short work of the bear with a war hammer to its skull.

Bilbo was still dancing in fear and trying to run. So Thorin pulled him closer, petting his back and flank and murmuring comfortingly.

"Nice! Bear meat! And a nice bear hide!" Dwalin left the pony to Thorin as he examined his kill.

Thorin was just getting the frightened pony calmed down. "Check the area. We don't need anymore surprises." He ordered.

Dwalin did as he was told and returned just as Thorin was encouraging the pony to eat again.

"Flighty little thing, ain't he?" Dwalin remarked as the pony catiously started eating the berries again.

"We know little about his kind. This could be normal. Nor do we know what he has suffered at the hands of the humans." 

Dwalin nodded. Bilbo had certainly not been well cared for by the humans, possibly due to his own resistance. "His color is nice. And his form is good. Though he's a bit small, he's not spindly like the Domestics or tree-shaggers. He must be quite the looker when he's cleaned up."

Thorin gave him a sidelong glare. He knew Dwalin wasn't really interested, but it was a stallions's nature to be possessive. Dwalin was right. Bilbo was in desperate need of some proper care, but despite his condition, it was obvious he was attractive. 

Thorin and Dwalin secured the bear to Dwalin's back while they waited for Bilbo to finish. He did shortly but didn't look very satisfied. He came away from the bushes licking his fingers.

"We need to start heading back before the meat starts to spoil." Dwalin reminded Thorin. "It's bad enough we'll likely have to stop for the night."

Thorin nodded and gestured for Bilbo to walk beside him. Thorin started leaded them back to the camp, but kept his eyes open for anymore fruit trees. If it was just him and Dwalin, they would have marched through the night, but the pony was already in rough shape. They wouldn't push him.

They had walked for a couple hours when the pony suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Thorin stopped and waited to follow where the pony's nose led him. Bilbo wandered off to the left as the stallions fell in behind him.

"How long has he been limping?" Thorin quietly asked Dwalin. 

"About an hour."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's not his legs. His hoof must be bothering 'im. Can't do much about it till we get to camp."

Thorin didn't like it, but Dwalin was right. Still, he would check his hooves tonight when they stopped.

Bilbo led them to a large apple tree where he reared up and picked a few apples and started eating.

Dwalin, remembering the last time, searched the area. Thorin pulled out a sack from one of the bags around his waist and started filling it with apples. Bilbo watched curiously while he munched on his apples.

Dwalin returned as Thorin was tying the filled sack to his waist. "Hand me your spare sack."

Dwalin raised a brow but did as asked.

Thorin began filling that one with apples as well. "We have nothing for him at the camp." He said as explanation. Dwalin just nodded and continued to keep watch. 

Bilbo picked a armful of apples to munch on as they traveled and went to stand next the Thorin to show he was ready to go.

They continued in the direction of the camp for a couple more hours. The sun was just setting, so Thorin decided to stop them for the night. He wanted to check the pony's hooves before it got to dark to see.

Thorin and Dwalin helped each other strip the loads off their backs for the night. They had just finished and Thorin was approaching Bilbo, about to ask to check his hooves when a wolf howled in the distance. 

Neither Thorin nor Dwalin were particularly concerned, but the pony reared in fright and would have taken off if Thorin hadn't grabbed him just in time.

Thorin reigned the pony in tryin to calm him, but it was proving rather difficult his time. It took him a good fifteen minutes before the pony looked like he wouldn't bolt if Thorin let him go, but the fear never left his eyes. 

Dwalin returned from scouting the area for threats while Thorin was trying to coax the pony into lying down. "This is worse than the bear." 

Bilbo was still trembling, but he was stubborn. He would stomp his foot and refuse whenever Thorin tried to push him into lying down.

Dwalin was watching the exchange in amusement. "Well, at least we know he has a backbone when it comes to some things."

Thorin scowled at him. "You're not helping."

Dwalin laughed. "You want me to slap him again?" He asked getting closer to do just that.

Thorin glared but, before he could say anything, Bilbo noticed him getting closer. The pony bucked and kicked out in warning then trotted around until Thorin was between him and Dwalin.

Thorin raised a brow and smirked at Dwalin smugly.

Dwalin snorted. "Yeah, whatever. Be smug. It's not gonna help you."

After a few more minutes trying to coax the pony into lying down, Thorin gave up. "You sleep first. We'll take first watch. No point in none of us getting any sleep."

Dwalin shrugged, but didn't need to be told twice. He found a spot near their things and lay down. 

Thorin kept watch half the night with Bilbo pressed up against him. By the time he was ready to wake Dwalin up for his watch, the pony had stopped trembling and was starting to fall asleep on his feet.

Thorin guided him over to where Dwalin was sleeping. He nudged him with his foot to wake him up. Dwalin snorted awake and got up to take over watch.

Thorin pushed the pony to make him lie down, and this time he went. Thorin lay down beside him as the pony got settled.

By the time Thorin got comfortable, the pony was fast asleep. Thorin huffed a laugh and let himself relax. He thought he could definitely get used to the feel of the pony lying next to him. But Before he could think too much about it, he was fast asleep himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Centaurs of Middle Earth: Facts, Profiles and Backgrounds:_  
>  **Centaur Forms:**  
>  Centaurs are not simply half-human/half-horse. They are humanoids, meaning they share some common features with humans, but their 'human' half is not really human. As such, their 'human' halves retain traits associated with their 'horse' halves creating a blended appearance. For example, though their faces are humanoid, they retain their horse-like ears. They have human-like heads of hair, but their hair narrows and runs down their backs to form a mane. Their mane and tails are not quite as course a true horse's, with some having softer hair than others. Their body horse-hair does not stop abruptly at their humanoid waist, but continues to travel up their humanoid torsos before thinning out to a softer fuzz that covers most of their upper torsos, but least so on their faces. Likewise, their skim pigmentation is uniform over their bodies and corresponds to their horse coloring. (Example: a black horse will have black skin; a white horse will have pink skin; a black horse with white markings will have pink skin under the white markings.)


	3. A Proper Grooming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add a race, tribe, or character profile at the end of every chapter, but I decided it would be more convenient to make them a separate work, since there are going to be a lot of them. So, if you haven't already noticed, I added another work to this one as a series where I will be adding the profiles and other relevant information, including a terminology list. If you want a particular profile let me know, otherwise, I'm just going to add them in the order I think is most relevant. Bilbo's profile has already been added.

Thorin woke up with Dwalin nudging him with his foot. Dwalin was looking down at him with an amused grin. 

"What?" Thorin grunted as he moved to sit up, but was prevented by something wrapped around his torso. He looked down at himself and saw two little hands gripping his leather armor. Now that he was more aware, he could feel the little pony burrowed between his shoulders.

Thorin cleared his throat. He needed to get up, but he didn't really want the pony to let go. He could definitely get used to this. 

Dwalin seemed to pick up on Thorin's dilemma and grinned even wider in amusement. 

Eventually, Thorin decided he really did need to get up. They needed to get the meat to camp and Bilbo desperately needed some grooming. He reached back and gently tugged on the base of the pony's mane. 

Bilbo started to stir, his grip tightening around Thorin before relaxing. A few seconds later, the pony shot up onto his feet. 

Thorin followed him up, though not nearly as fast. The little pony was blushing furiously, dancing and stammering what Thorin assumed were apologies. 

Thorin tried to get his attention to let him know it was fine, but the pony wouldn't look up from his feet. Thorin gently grabbed and lifted his chin. When Bilbo finally shyly made eye contact, Instead of speaking words he knew the pony wouldn't understand, he gently caressed the pony's jaw from his ear to his chin.

The pony froze as his eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open. Thorin couldn't help but smirk a little at the pony's reaction as he turned to help Dwalin get everything reloaded.

Dwalin snorted turning from the pony, who was holding his jaw in a daze. "Moving awfully fast, ain't ya?"

"Not really. You know as well as I do some mares choose their mates on their first meeting." Especially if said mate was a lead stallion. Being mate of the lead stallion meant access to the best of everything.

"I'm not talking about the pony. I'm talking about you." Dwalin was no longer teasing. "Quite a few mares have passed through our herd, you never seemed to show any interest in any of them."

Thorin shrugged. "I didn't lack interest, they just failed to keep it." Thorin looked back at the pony who had finally snapped out of his daze. "He's interesting . . and intelligent."

"He's got a nice arse too."

Thorin swung at Dwalin who dodged, laughing. Bilbo looked at them curiously. Thorin glared at Dwalin. "He is attractive, and I don't feel like he's kissing up to me just because I'm the lead stallion."

"Aye, seems more confused by it than anything." Dwalin glanced back at the pony. "Makes ya wonder what his herd was like."

Thorin's stomach dropped at the mention of the pony's herd. He had a herd somewhere. He would want to go back. He might even already be mated. Thorin has had his hands all over the pony. Granted, it was mostly out of necessity, but it was still grounds for a challenge if the pony's mate found out.

Not that he was concerned about losing to a pony stallion, but winning would mean hurting or even killing the pony's mate. A small part of him was okay with that, because it would mean the the pony was available to be mated again, but he knew he would deeply regret doing anything to hurt the little pony.

Dwalin seemed to pick up on Thorin's silent brooding. "Relax, I don't think he's mated."

"How would you know that?" 

Dwalin shrugged. "He doesn't really act mated. He accepts your attention too readily. A mated mare should be more standoffish." 

"Mares are naturally more tactile, you know that. And he's been subject to a lot of stress lately. It's normal for him to seek reassurances and comfort, even more so considering he's in season."

"Aye, but mated mares in season are known to be downright violent when approached by stallions not their mates."

That was certainly true. Thorin's own sister had nearly taken his head off with a battle ax because he was "in her space" when she was in season once. "Even if he is not mated, it doesn't mean he will want to stay with our herd."

"Then give him a reason to stay. It's normal for mares to join the herd of their mates if they choose a stallion outside of their own. If you're serious about him."

They were just finishing tying up their loads. Thorin glanced over at the pony again. "I think I might be, but there seems to be a lot of obstacles."

"Leave it to you to over complicate things. Mating language is the same for all centaurs."

"Leave it to you to oversimplify things. I can't even have a proper conversation with him." Thorin retorted. "We're not like the Domestics. I'm not looking for a one-time mount. We mate until death parts us."

"You seem to doing fine on limited communication so far. They say that words are only a small part of communication anyway."

"Who's 'they'?"

"The tree-shaggers. Ya know they think they know everything."

Thorin laughed. He felt a little encouraged. Maybe he could work around the language barrier, but he still didn't know anything about the pony's background or culture. The pony was smart though, he should learn Westron easily enough.

Thorin walked over to the pony and handed him a couple apples from one of the bags.

Bilbo took them eagerly and moved into place to follow the stallion.

As Thorin started leading them towards their camp again, he realized he never got to check the pony's hoof. It was to late now. He couldn't do it with everything strapped to him as it was. It would have to wait until they were back in the camp. Fortunately, they were only several hours away.

They kept up a steady pace for the rest of the morning. Thorin tried several times to slow down for the pony, but Bilbo was determined not to be the one to slow them down and would stomp his feet in displeasure every time. 

Thorin couldn't help the smirk that stole across his face every time. For all the pony's timidness and uncertainty, he was just as feisty and stubborn. Thorin felt himself becoming more and more captivated by the spirited little pony.

It was nearly noon by the time they made it back to camp. A couple of stallions ran out to meet them and relieve them of some of their burdens. The pony received more than few curious glances as the stallions unloaded the game off Thorin and Dwalin's backs.

As they were being unloaded, a dark colored mare came up to greet them. "I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten lost again, brother." She grinned mischievously. 

Thorin just glared at her. "Hello, Dis."

"Nah. We just got caught up rescuing a pony in distress." Dwalin responded playfully.

She looked confused. "Pony? What pony?"

Thorin was confused by her confusion. She should have noticed him easily enough. He looked around; he had to nearly turn himself completely around before he spotted him. 

The pony had retreated a fair ways back, almost back to the woods they had come out of. Thorin looked at Dwalin who just raised a brow. "He's your pony. You go get him."

"Is that the pony? Why is he way over there?" Dis asked.

Thorin started walking over to the lone pony, Dis following right behind him. "He doesn't speak Westron or Khuzdul. We haven't been able to learn much about him."

"What? Who doesn't speak Westron? Even we speak Westron." She repeated Dwalin word for word.

"I don't know, but that's just one of the mysteries."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out in just a minute." Thorin said as he walked up to the pony. "Bilbo." He greeted. He gestured to his sister. "Dis."

Bilbo nodded, but kept his head low and his eyes downcast. 

"What's wrong with him?" Dis was quickly becoming suspicious until a gust of wind blew over the pony and into her face. She gasped. "Is he . .?" 

"Yes, he's in season. He seems to be more mare than stallion." Thorin confirmed. 

"How is that possible?!" She gaped at Bilbo for near a minute before finally breaking out of her shock. "Look at the poor thing!" She rushed forward, all suspicion gone. "Where did you find him? The poor thing looks like he hasn't been groomed in ages."

"The humans had him. I'll explain more later. He needs to be properly groomed."

"Of course! Sharli and I will take good care of him." She tried to lead him away but the pony dug in his hooves and wouldn't move."

He looked at Thorin alarmed and confused.

"It's alright. She's going to take care of you." He murmured while stroking the pony's back soothingly. 

Dis watched her brother coax the pony with reassuring murmurs and touches with raised eyebrows.

Thorin finally convinced the pony to go with his sister, who gently guided him away. Thorin followed them back into the camp and stopped to watch them leave as they separated, enjoying the view of his pony's backside. He only stopped when he realized he was being watched. "What?"

"Told you he's got it bad." Dwalin said to the shorter gray stallion at his side.

Thorin huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like you had quite the successful hunt. Dwalin tells me the pony is a mare. Why don't you tell me about it in the meeting tent." Balin suggested.

Thorin nodded and led them over to the conference tent. He and Dwalin explained everything that had happened, where and how they had found the pony, the condition he was in, and, most importantly, that he seemed to be both mare and stallion.

"If what you say is true, then that's both good and bad news." The gray stallion concluded.

"How is any of this bad news?" Thorin challenged. 

"Obviously, the good news is that you found a fertile mare. The bad news is that you had to steal him from the humans. They aren't going to just look the other way." Balin warned.

Thorin's anger flared. "He was being held against his will! The only centaurs they are allowed to keep are the ones that stay willingly. That's the very foundatin of our peace with them. They had no claim on him! If they think we will just hand him back over, they will have a fight on their hands!"

"Aye, I'm with you. But it's my job to make sure you know it's coming." Balin agreed.

"I doubt it will come to a blows. One look at him will prove he's not a Domestic and the fact that he doesn't speak Westron isn't in their favor either. If push comes to shove, we just bring him out and ask him where he would rather be." Dwalin shrugged.

"As helpful as that would be, we will try to avoid it. I doubt he has pleasant memories of the humans." Thorin didn't want to traumatize the pony any more if he could help it.

Just then a red colt came bursting into the tent. "Stallion Thorin! Mare Dis wants to know what the pony eats!"

"Blast it, Gimli! Ye can't just come busten in here!" Dwalin scolded.

"It's fine." Thorin took a large metal bowl of the table and filled it with several apples from the sack still tied around his waist. He handed the bowl to Gimli, who took it and bolted back out. 

"We're going to have to arrange something to feed this pony of yours. Many of our hunters wouldn't know a fruit if you threw it at them." Balin glanced over a Dwalin who just snorted.

"We'll figure something out. At least it's not something we'll have to trade for." Though Thorin would happily trade to keep the pony fed.

"We'll need his guidance. We don't know much about fruit, especially not preserving it. We'll need something for him when winter hits." Balin thought ahead.

Thorin nodded. "How has the herd been in my absence?"

Balin proceeded to fill him in on the past several days of Thorin's absence.

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo followed the pretty dark mare. He was very confused. There were so many stallions in this herd. And why had they accepted him into the herd? Did he belong to the black stallion now? Or did the stallions share the mares?

He didn't think he'd particularly mind being the black stallion's, but he had always hoped he'd get to choose his mate himself. 

Back home, he would have never been allowed to join a herd unless the lead stallion mated him. Thorin seemed interested, but hadn't made any advances, which was why Bilbo was so confused.

But Thorin had wanted him to enter the herd, and, since Bilbo didn't know what else to do, he followed along. Their herd dynamics must be very different from what he was used to.

Bilbo followed Dis who led him down to the river. There was another mare and a young colt washing in the water. The mares made a fuss over him before pushing him into the river for a thorough washing. He blushed being scrubbed by strange mares, but quickly got over it at the feeling of finally being clean.

_~Dis~_

"Have you ever seen anything so cute?" Dis bubbled at Sharli.

"He is adorable. Why, he's barely bigger than my Gimli! Are you sure he's mature? He looks so young." Sharli bubbled back. 

"He must be full grown if he's in season. Can you imagine a whole herd of little ponies? They must look like a herd of foals from a distance. And stallion mares! Have you ever heard of such a thing?" Dis pause in her scrubbing and gasped. "Their foals must be so tiny!!"

Sharli gasped back. "You're right!! Do you think your brother will mate him? Their foals would be so adorable!" 

Dis snorted. "I don't know, Sharli. I've never seen him act like this with a mare before, but, you know him, he'll probably wait too long and some other stallion will swoop in under him." 

"You never know. He only met the pony yesterday, and, from what you told me, he's already wrapped around the pony's fingers. If he's really interested, he'll have to move fast to keep the other stallions away."

"We can only hope." Dis moved down the pony's body, scrubbing his lower back and croup. After a few scrubs, she gasped again. "Sharli! Come look at this!"

Sharli stopped her work on his belly and rushed over. "What is it?" 

"Look at these speckles! I though it was just dead or bleached hair at first, but look at this pattern!" She rinsed his croup so Sharli could get a good look.

"How cute! I've never seen a marking like this, not even on a Domestic. It looks like a giant mass of freckles." Sharli observed.

Bilbo paused in his own scrubbing (he had been allowed to scrub his upper torso) and looked back at them questioningly, though not over concerned that they were examining the marking on his rear. He shrugged and went back to scrubbing his hair.

"Well, if that doesn't get a stallion's attention, I don't know what will." Dis said going back to her scrubbing.

They continued scrubbing him down until they were convinced that every last inch of him was satisfactorily clean. When they finally pulled him out of the water he felt ten pounds lighter from all the dirt they'd washed off.

Sharli sent Gimli to fetch them some lunch and started checking his hooves while they waited. "Oh goodness! Look at the shape of these hooves! The poor thing. I can't believe those stallions marched him in this state!" She said examining his hooves.

"No wonder the poor thing was limping. He's practically got a boulder in this one! We'll have to clean his hooves out before we do any other grooming." Dis agreed.

"Good thing I brought my whole grooming kit today. We're going to need it." Sharli said as Gimli trotted up carrying a large bowl of roasted meat strips and a couple water skins..

They sat down in the grass setting the bowl in the center and started eating. Well, everyone but the pony started eating. 

"It's alright, hun. You can have some." Sharli held the bowl up to the pony. 

Bilbo gave an apologetic smile and shook his head. 

"Maybe ponies don't eat meat." Dis mused out loud. "Gimli, be a dear and go ask Thorin what the pony eats, please." 

Gimli nodded and took off. He came back a few minutes later with a large bowl of apples. He set it down in front of the pony, who smiled and said something in his strange tongue. 

"How interesting. I guess ponies are fruit eaters?" Sharli commented.

They finished their lunch and Sharli and Dis decided that they would split up the next stage of grooming. Sharli would work on his hooves while Dis worked on his hair.

Sharli got started on the worst hoof while Dis started working on his tail, trying to figure out how to untangle the nearly dread-locked mass. By the time Sharli had picked, sanded, and polished the first hoof, Dis still hadn't made any progress on his tail. 

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to untangle all this." Dis gestured to the mess that was his tail. 

Bilbo reached down and grabbed something out of Sharli's grooming kit. He reached back and handed them a pair of shears. 

Dis took the shears. "It'd be an awful shame to cut it." She lamented. 

Sharli nodded sympathetically. "But it would grow back. Besides, there might not be much left of it by the time you get all these knots out."

Dis finally consented and started carefully cutting his tail short enough to get the knots out while Sharli started on another hoof.

Bilbo stood patiently while they groomed him. Having never been this pampered before, he was enjoying the affectionate attentions. 

After cutting his hair, mane and tail short, Dis made short work of them. She left them as long as she could, but they were still cropped down to just a couple of inches, a couple of very curly inches.

"I don't think his hair would have knotted so bad if it wasn't so curly." Dis commented as she was exchanging the hair combs for the body brushes. She handed one to him so he could work on his upper torso.

"Do you think all ponies have curly manes and tails?" Sharli wondered.

"I can't say I'd be surprised if they did at this point." Dis answered as she handed another brush to Sharli.

They quietly brushed him for several minutes, before Sharli broke the silence. "Dis?"

"Hmm?"

"What color would you say his coat is?"

"I thought he was a light chestnut. Why?" Dis stepped back to get a better look at him. 

"It just seems . . different somehow. Shinier? And his skin is a bit light for a chestnut."

"Hmm. You're right, the sheen is much brighter. And on this color, it almost looks like . ."

"Gold." Sharli finished for her. "Every un-mated stallion for miles around is going to be propositioning him." She smirked conspiratorially at Dis. "Your brother better not waste his time."

Dis smirked back. "I have a feeling he's going to have difficulty taking his time even if he wants to."

The mares giggled between themselves and Bilbo decided that, as long as his coat was still getting groomed, he'd keep his nose out of it.


	4. Check Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's profile was added yesterday to "Centaurs of Middle Earth." I have also added some things to Bilbo's profile and the terminology list.

It was well after lunch by the time that Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin left their meeting. They were just emerging from the meeting tent when they noticed something was causing a stir in the camp.

Dwalin called over one of the guarding stallions. "What's all this racket about?"

"I don't know, sir. It seems to have started in the direction of the river, but it's coming this way." The stallion reported.

"No alarms have been blown, if it was an attack, we would know." Dwalin concluded.

A moment later the source of the commotion came into view. The mares were casually walking towards them with the pony carefully sequestered between them. They were surrounded by several stallions each trying to get a closer look at the pony.

"Looks like your pony's quite the hit." Dwalin teased. Thorin was already glaring daggers at the stallions daring to take interest in the little pony.

Dis and Sharli marched Bilbo right up to Thorin, stopping only several feet away. "I have to say, brother, you really found a gem. I mean, look at this beautilful coloring." She ran her hand down the pony's back in admiration.

Thorin had never seen such a color on a centaur. He looked as if his coat had been spun from gold itself and polished to a beautiful shine. He never imagined the pony would sport such a mesmerizing color.

Dis smirked seeing the awe and desire in her brother's eyes. "Oh, but that's just his coat," she said as she started pushing the pony's rear around, making him rotate in place. Bilbo complied obediently, but his ears started to flick apprehensively.

"Have you ever seen such an attractive marking?" She asked as the pony's rear came to a stop only inches in front of Thorin. 

He noticed the speckled marking, which was indeed very attractive. It accentuated the pony's rear enticingly. But, he only had a mere few seconds to admire it, before he was hit with the pony's heat scent. 

The pony's tail was short and swishing nervously, serving only to fan his heat scent over Thorin.

Thorin's eyes went dark and his nostrils flared taking in the alluring scent. He grit his teeth and willed his hooves to stay on the ground. He crossed his arms to keep his itching fingers from reaching out. If he was a lesser stallion, he would have mounted the pony right then and there.

Bilbo was looking back at him shyly with concern, ears and tail still flicking nervously, but obediently staying put. 

Thorin breathed through his mouth for a few seconds, regaining his composure. It didn't help much, but he willed himself into control regardless. He let himself assess the pony, more level-headed this time, and noticed he was trembling.

The pony no doubt thought that he was expected to allow Thorin to mate him. Thorin briefly wondered at the differences there must be between their races. A mare should never be forced to mate. Perhaps he was afraid he would be kicked out from the herd if he refused.

Thorin glared at his sister. He knew she did this to him on purpose. "Dis." He growled in warning and command.

"Fine." She huffed at him and pushed the pony's rear over to the side, out of alignment with Thorin. 

If Thorin had pushed Bilbo aside himself, it would have been a rejection. He didn't want the pony to misunderstand, so it was better to let his sister do it. Besides, he didn't trust himself to touch the pony just yet.

"It seems you approve though." She smirked at him again. 

It was much easier to regain his composure without the pony's rear set so enticingly before him. "What stallion wouldn't?" He responded, trying to keep the possessiveness out of his voice.

Most of the other stallions noticed the possessive stance Thorin had taken and backed off accordingly to admire the pony from a safer distance. One of them wasn't quite as perceptive. 

He was a younger stallion, one who had migrated to their herd. He was either too entranced by Bilbo's coat and scent or simply to dense to understand the situation. He had slowly gotten closer to the pony who was no longer being hedged in by the mares. 

He reached out in awe to caress the pony's brilliant coat, either intentionally or coincidentally reaching for the pony's rump. 

Thorin's composure snapped. He reared forward with a bellow, bringing his hooves down hard in a threatening stomp only feet away from the young stallion. 

The stallion startled away from the threatening display before stopping and measuring Thorin up. He glanced back at the pony, who was dancing in nervous fright, then back at the lead stallion. 

Thorin ears laid back flat as he glared, stomping his hoof in challenge. His whole body poised to defend his claim.

The young stallion glanced back and forth between the pony and Thorin, obviously weighing his chances against the reward. But it didn't take him long to realize he was seriously outmatched. He lowered his head in submission, and backed away from the challenge.

Thorin scanned the rest of the stallions, looking for any other challengers. Each one lowered their head in submission and backed away in turn. Thorin turned to walk back to the pony. The mares were still trying to calm him.

Thorin stepped up and took over soothing the pony from the mares. After the face off, he needed to feel the pony under his hands. He pet and caressed the pony's back and sides, enjoying the feel of him, but purposefully avoiding the pony's rump.

Thorin had staked a claim, not as a Lead Stallion, but as any stallion would. He would defend his claim like any other stallion rather than forbid interference. But he would not push Bilbo either. He would give the unsure pony time to feel comfortable and secure in their herd. He didn't want Bilbo to choose him out of fear or obligation.

Bilbo calmed quickly under the Lead Stallion's reassurances. Dis and Sharli were smirking smugly between themselves, having accomplished their mission. Dwalin looked at Balin with a raised brow, who raised his back in silent communication.

Balin was just about to step forward when Thorin beat him to his question. "Have you taken him to see Oin?"

"Not yet. We thought you would want to see him first." Dis replied smugly.

"You were right." He said as he nuzzled the pony's short hair affectionately. Bilbo blushed at the affectionate gesture, but made no move to discourage it. 

There was no need for Thorin to hide his affection. Doing so would only encourage other stallions to make advances on the pony. 

"I will take him to see Oin, then." Thorin guided the pony along with a hand on his upper back. "Balin, if you would accompany us." He called back to the others. 

Balin nodded as he and Dwalin both fell into step behind their Lead Stallion. Dis followed as well, sensing she may be needed for the exam. 

Thorin led the way into Oin's healing tent, calling for the old healer, while Dwalin took up guarding the door. "Yes, what is it? Don't tell me that bear gave you a problem." Oin called back from a table covered in herbs, bowls and canisters. 

"Hardly. I need you to examine Bilbo here, make sure he's in good health." He caressed the base of Bilbo's mane reassuringly as he spoke up for the old centaur.

"Bilbo? Who's that?" Oin finally turned around to face them. His brows rose upon seeing the little pony standing in his tent. "What is he then?"

"We have yet to determine that. But he was misused at the hands of the humans, so I want you to check him thoroughly." Thorin said as Oin walked over to them.

Oin almost immediately picked up on Bilbo's heat scent. "Mahal, lass. You shouldn't be prancing about the camp in that condition. Have you run out of your suppressing herbs already?" He address Dis mistaking her to be the source of the scent.

She raised her eyebrow and looked at Thorin.

"Dis isn't in season. Bilbo is." Thorin clarified and waited for it to sink in. 

Oin looked at Thorin, the pony, then back at Thorin. "My hearing must be worse today. I thought I just heard you say the pony's in season."

"I did."

Oin studied him a moment. "That's a stallion, laddie. I'm sure you can tell the difference."

Thorin huffed and gently pushed the pony around until his rear was almost facing the old healer.

Oin's brows disappeared into his hairline as his eyes and nose confirmed that the (male) pony was definitely in season. "Well, that's a new one." He grunted. "Going by his scent, I shouldn't have to check him for fertility, at least. Anyone claimed him yet?"

"I did." Thorin answered lowly, taking up a possessive stance in challenge.

Oin looked back at him with just one brow raised. "Alright." Oin knew better than to question a stallion's claim. He turned back to his table getting his things around. "Claimed him or not, you and Balin will need to step out. Dis can stay and help me with him."

Thorin nodded. He would have preferred to stay, but he knew Bilbo would be more comfortable without an audience. He moved to leave the tent but turned back at the door. "Check him for a recent mounting. The humans were trying to breed him." 

Dis gaped in outrage as he turned to leave. She hadn't heard the story of their finding him yet. 

Thorin and Balin stepped out and joined Dwalin guarding the entrance. "Now that you've seen him, have you ever heard about anything like him?" Thorin asked Balin.

Balin pursed his lips in thought. "Specifically, I can't say I have. But I do recall tales of a smaller race from the west that were said to have been blessed with outstanding fertility by the goddess of fertility herself. Unfortunately, the tales have all but passed into myth and legend and have become quite embellished. It's hard to say what is myth and what is fact. The legends often depict them as fairies of some sort."

"Fairies?" Dwalin scoffed.

Balin shrugged. "As I said, very little contact has been made with them and none in our recent history. It's hard to know what might be true, especially considering some things that we would have thought were embellished myth seem to be fact."

"Such as a stallion mare." Thorin could see how that would make it difficult to determine fact from fiction.

Balin nodded. "We could ask the Woodlanders, but even their knowledge is likely limited. I suspect we will have to learn as we go."

Thorin wasn't a fan of asking the Woodlanders for anything (or even talking to them, for that matter) but he would if it meant learning more about the pony's background.

As he was quietly contemplating how he should approach the Woodlanders, the thunder of hoofbeats met his ears. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. That sound was most often accompanied by two things . .

Two young stallions barely out of foal-hood thundered into view galloping in his direction.

. . His nephews.

They skidded to a stop in front of the three stallions. "We heard there's a new mare in the herd!" Fili started

"Some are even saying that you made a claim on her!" Kili finished. 

Thorin wasn't surprised. The whole herd knew about Bilbo by now, but why were the boys just now hearing about it. "Where have you been?"

"We were out hunting. So, what's she like?" Kili barely sparred a moment to answer his uncle.

"Where did you find her?" 

"What tribe is she from?"

"Did she accept you?"

Kili scoffed and backhanded his brother in the chest. "Of course she accepted him. He's the Lead Stallion, all mares aim for the leads."

"I have staked a claim, but I have not made a proposal yet. So, no, I have not been accepted." Thorin clarified.

The boys gaped at him. "What?" "Why not?" They spoke over each other.

"It's complicated." He didn't really feel like explaining it when they would get to meet him for themselves any moment. 

The young stallions looked at Dwalin and Balin for answers. 

Dwalin shrugged. "The mares a stallion." 

Dwalin's answer only further confused them. "What? How can a mare be a stallion?" Kili scrunched up his nose in confusion.

"And why would uncle make a claim on a stallion?" Fili was in a similar state.

"It's complicated." Thorin reiterated.

The boys looked at each other in confusion. Obviously, they weren't going to get any helpful answers.

"He's with Oin and your mother. They should be out shortly." Balin reassured them.

Just as he said, a few minutes later, Dis was throwing open the entrance flap and leading the little pony out of the tent. Bilbo looked uncertain, so Thorin gestured him over to his side.

Fili and Kili were gaping at the pony, taking in all his unique qualities. "He's golden!" Fili started.

"And curly." 

"And he's definitely a stallion."

Bilbo's heat scent hit them both at the same time. Their eyes got even wider as they gaped anew. Bilbo shuffled a little closer to Thorin, nervous from the attention after what happened last time.

Finally, Oin emerged from the tent. "Well?" Thorin addressed him.

"His health is good overall, as far as I can tell. Can't say I exactly know what's normal for a pony, but nothing abnormal stood out apart from the obvious. He's a bit underweight, but nothing good meals won't fix."

"What of the other matter?" Thorin asked.

"No sign of a forced mounting or any kind of recent mounting. Honestly, I imagine it would have been difficult for those tall Domestics to get a proper mount on him, considering he's barely half their size, especially if he wasn't cooperating."

Thorin felt a weight fall of his shoulders at the relief of knowing Bilbo hadn't been violated before he could get to him. Though his heat scent could be an issue with the stallions of the herd, Thorin was still relieved that the pony would remain fertile for a time. "That is good to know." 

"What? What does that mean?" Kili asked confused. "Was someone trying to force him to mate?" Fili added. "Even if he's a stallion, as a bearer he has a mares rights!" Fili was outraged on the pony's behalf. 

"Thorin, I think you have much to catch us up on." Dis sent Thorin an expectant look.

Just as he was about to respond, a loud gurgle interrupted his thoughts and got everyone's attention. Bilbo blushed as everyone turned to stare at him.

Thorin huffed and chuckled. "Why don't we discuss this over dinner."

No one argued with that.

Later, as Thorin, Bilbo, Dis and the boys sat around the short table in the Lead Stallion's tent, Thorin filled them in on everything that had happened when they found the pony as well as Balin's concerns.

Bilbo happily munched on his apples, unconcerned by the conversation. 

"Those Valar-less barbarians." Dis growled. "If they think we're just going to hand him over to them, they've got another thing coming. I hope you don't plan to cater to their demands, brother."

"I have no intention of doing any such thing." He growled back. "They will be lucky if they avoid a war if they come making demands." 

Kili slammed his cup on the table, startling a nicker from Bilbo. "We should already be declaring war! They broke the treaty! How dare they think they can get away with treating our kind like this!"

Thorin petted the pony reassuringly and sent a mild glare at his nephew. "War is not something to take lightly. We will only resort to it if necessary. As much as we may desire to put them in their place, the losses would be great to our tribes if we are forced to fight."

Kili smiled sheepishly at the pony in apology. "But Kili's right, uncle. What were they thinking? Did they think we wouldn't find out? Or that we just wouldn't care since he's not a Khuzd? The treaty applies to all centaur, regardless of tribe or race. Surely they wouldn't think we would overlook him just because he's a pony?"

"The humans have grown numerous and they have many Domestics in their service. Perhaps they believe a war would end in their favor. If the humans are able to conquer centaurs, they will force us all into lives of slavery or fugitives." Thorin explained gravely. 

"Then maybe we should take care of them before they get too numerous. Soon there will be too many of them for us to fight back, no matter how much stronger we are as a people." Kili reasoned. 

"What you say is true. Our numbers are dropping while theirs are steadily increasing. It is only a matter of time before the overpower us with shear numbers alone." Thorin agreed. 

"So, its inevitable then? Is there nothing we can do?" As Thorin's heir, Fili had more reasons to be concerned.

"Regardless of what we do, the possibility that the Khuzd centaurs will fade away is very high. But the best thing we can do is maintain peace with the humans and not reduce what numbers we have with war." Thorin had thought long and hard on their situation many times.

"And if they demand the pony back?" Dis questioned.

"They have no legitimate claim over him. If they will not acknowledge our treaty, then we are already at war." He answered darkly. "And we will remind them that we are warriors and not to be taken lightly."

Dis smiled darkly in approval while her sons cheered the sentiment. Bilbo looked around at them nervously, not understanding what it was all about. 

Thorin remembered another issue he would need his nephews help with. "I need your help with something." 

They both perked up, hoping for a noble task. 

"You spend a lot of time in the surrounding woods. I need you to keep an eye out for any fruit trees or bushes and memorize their locations, as well as harvest them when possible." 

"Fruit?" Kili asked baffled.

Fili smacked his arm. "The pony eats fruit." 

"Ohh." Kili caught on. "But, we don't know anything about fruit."

"Nor do we know about his diet other than that he eats fruit, which is why we will have to learn by trial and error." Thorin concluded. "Bring samples of what you find and we will see what he thinks of them."

The boys nodded, already trying to recall if they knew of any fruit trees.

He turned to Dis. "I want him to stay with you in your tent."

She raised a brow at him. "Not here with you?"

Thorin shook his head. "He seems to think he is obligated to me. I want him to know he is his own and is free to choose to mate whom he wishes. He will be more comfortable with another mare."

"He seems pretty comfortable with you." She countered. "The sentiment is very noble, Thorin, but we can't afford to loose a fertile mare. If he is willing to mate you, for whatever reason, you should mate him."

Thorin glared at her. "I will not bind him to me by manipulation. I assure you I will do my best to win his affections."

"You had better. Though I doubt there is much risk of you failing, judging from what I've seen so far. But you must also consider his season. If he has been in season since yesterday, he likely only has another two or three days left of it. He may not go into season again for, at least, another six months. It would be a shame to waste his fertile period." She tried to sway him.

"If he is fertile, he will come into season again. I will not rush him after what he has been through and is still going through. Besides, we don't know how his race does things, it may be best to find out first."

Dis sighed at her brother. "Then I guess I better start teaching him Westron."

"That would be most helpful." Thorin agreed. 

"So, this means he's staying with us then." Fili sent his brother a mischievous grin.

"Yes. And you will keep your hands off him. I will not spare you just because you are my nephews and heirs if you challenge me." He glared at them.

They paled at the threat, quickly abandoning any mischief they were planning.

It was getting dark by the time they finished up, so Thorin walked them to Dis's tent. He handed the pony over to Dis, but not before petting him soothingly and nuzzling him goodnight.

Thorin walked back to his tent alone, wishing he could have kept the pony with him. He meant what he said to Dis, but he was mostly just afraid he wouldn't be able to keep his hands . . and other things . . to himself if Bilbo stayed alone with him. Thorin would earn his right to be Bilbo's chosen like any other stallion.


	5. Dispute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted the profiles for Dis and the Durin tribe yesterday. I was only planning to post one a week, but I'm way ahead so I decided to gift you with two. I might post two again next week. I have Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili done. Let me know which ones you want next week if you have a preference. :)

As was his usual, Thorin got up early the next morning and joined Dwalin on his guard rounds around the outskirts of their camp. They got back just as Dis was herding Bilbo and her boys towards the river for their usual morning grooming.

Thorin broke from Dwalin and joined them at Dis's expectant stare. Grooming was a social event for mares and they often dragged their mates and stallion relatives into it whenever possible. Stallions with mates or mare relatives tended to be the best groomed in their herds.

Bilbo gave him a shy smile as Thorin settled into step beside him. Thorin wrapped an arm around the pony's upper waist and bent over to nuzzle his hair in greeting. "Good morning." He rumbled into the pony's ear. 

He felt the pony shudder beneath him and smirked in primal satisfaction. 

"G-good m-morning." Bilbo stuttered back with his gentle accent.

Thorin perked up in surprise, looking to his sister for explanation. 

"We've started practicing greetings and simple phrases. Don't expect a whole conversation." She answered his questioning look. 

Regardless, he couldn't stop his tail from swishing in excitement. "He will learn fast."

"Yes, he is very intelligent." Dis agreed, amused to see her brother puff up in pride over his choice in mare.

Once they got to the river, they stripped out of their leathers (and in Thorin's case chain-mail) and waded into the river to wash. Dis immediately corralled Thorin for a scrubbing, knowing her sons would be content to play around in the water for a while. 

She got Thorin's coat wet down before trying to cajole Bilbo into helping her scrub him clean, but Bilbo would only gaze at Thorin uncertainly, as if unsure of his welcome. 

Dis huffed. "Thorin, tell your pony he's allowed to touch you."

"What?" Thorin had already started scrubbing his front and turned to see what Dis was talking about. Bilbo was just standing there holding a scrubbing brush. When Thorin met his eyes, he saw a flash of fear as the pony recoiled and lowered his head in submission.

Dis tutted at the reaction and slapped her brother's flank, indicating he better fix it.

As if Thorin needed to be told. He reached out for the pony, ignoring Bilbo's jolt of surprise, and gently guided him back to Thorin's side. He took the brush from the pony and placed Bilbo's hand on his back, hopefully granting permission. 

Bilbo flushed as he gaped at Thorin in surprised disbelief. Now that Thorin thought about it, Bilbo had never directly touched Thorin, despite how much Thorin had had his hands all over the pony. 

Thorin nuzzled into Bilbo's ear, rumbling a quiet "Please." Thorin wasn't sure if the pony actually knew the word yet or if it was just the effect of his voice, but the pony's mouth snapped shut and he shivered. When Thorin pulled away, the pony was an even darker shade of blush.

Thorin smirked, satisfied with his affect on the pony and released Bilbo's hand. 

Bilbo rubbed his hand down Thorin's back almost reverently, glancing back at Thorin for approval. 

Thorin smiled and nodded as he handed the brush back to Bilbo. Bilbo took it and started to reverently scrub the Lead Stallions back as Thorin returned to scrubbing his front.

Dis had watched the whole exchange quietly. "I don't like it, Thorin."

"Like what?" It was her idea for the pony to help.

"The way he acts. He's so insecure and unsure of everything, as if he doesn't think he has any rights. Even when you first brought him here, you had to convince him to even set foot in the camp." She grumbled. 

Thorin though about the pony's behavior for a few minutes before responding. "You're right. It can't be a result of being with the humans, either. They group centaurs into herds indiscriminately, joining a new herd wouldn't be a problem." 

"Which means it must be a cultural difference." Confirmed Dis, sounding even more angry. "How could they treat their own kind so poorly, especially a mare?" She asked thoroughly disgusted.

"Perhaps they have an abundance of mares?" Thorin guessed.

"That's still no excuse to oppress your own kind." She snapped back angrily.

Thorin sighed. He agreed, of course, but they couldn't exactly control other races or tribes. "It's not our place to tell other races how to live." 

"I know that. I'm just saying, there's no excuse for it. It's no wonder he doesn't want to go back to his herd."

Thorin perked up. "How do you know that? Did he tell you?" Thorin was still concerned the pony might choose to leave. 

"He doesn't have to. Has he made any indication at all that he wants to leave?" She asked.

Thorin thought it over. "No, not that I could tell, but he's not even been with us two days and I probably wouldn't understand him anyway."

"Nonsense. If I was captured by humans and kept away from my family for who knows how long, I may be grateful to my saviors, but I'm not going to just sit around and get comfortable. I'd be doing my best to get an escort or at least supplies to travel back home." 

It made sense. Bilbo hadn't done anything to suggest that he wanted to leave. Could Thorin hope that the pony would be happy to stay? "Well, he may still decide he wants to leave in the future." 

"I doubt that will happen. He is obviously not used to being treated this well." 

Thorin glanced back at the pony who had continued to brush Thorin's coat, unconcerned with the conversation. He would see to it personally that the pony was well taken care of. 

Just as Dis and Bilbo finished scrubbing Thorin down and started on Fili and Kili, they heard a whinny coming from upstream. Thorin glanced over to check the situation, but turned to ignore it when he realized what it was.

Sharli had brought her own family down to the river for a morning grooming. Apparently her attentions had gotten her stallion, Gloin, stirred up as he was mounting her right there in the water. 

There was nothing unusual about it. Centaurs weren't shy about sex. The first mounting to form a mating was always public. And it was common for stallions to mount their mares in public once they were mated. It was their right as a mated stallion and it demonstrated their virility. It also helped to ward off desperate stallions who may be entertaining errant ideas. 

"Nothing like a good morning mount, hmm?" Dis teased her brother, guessing where his thoughts had wandered to. 

"Shut up, Dis." He said moodily. It was hard enough keeping himself under control with the pony's hands all over him. He didn't need encouragement. 

She just smirked at him knowingly.

Dis and Bilbo finished scrubbing down the boys then helped scrub each other down, before getting out of the water for a dry rub down. Just as they were finishing up, Balin and Dwalin showed up looking somber. 

"What is it?" Thorin had a feeling he knew.

"King Bard from Dale is requesting an audience." Balin informed.

"It's about the pony." Dwalin added in. 

Thorin nodded. They knew this was coming. "Dis, take Bilbo back into the camp. We won't call him out unless it becomes necessary." 

Dis nodded and started guiding Bilbo back into the camp. Thorin joined Dwalin and Balin as they headed back to meet with the human king of Dale.

"King Bard." Thorin greeted as he approached, automatically taking a defensive stance with his arms crossed. 

"Lead Stallion Thorin." Bard greeted back. He had already dismounted from the Domestic he had ridden so as not to tower over Thorin and his advisers.

Thorin fought back a grimace of distaste at the sight of a saddled centaur. "To what do we owe this visit?" Thorin would not be the one to start this.

"A complaint has been made that the Khuzd centaurs are stealing away mares from our paddocks. I have come to see what you have to say to about it." 

Bard was . . decent, as far as humans go, but he was still obligated to respond to the concerns of his people. "This is no small accusation you bring before me. Are you sure you have investigated it thoroughly on your end?" Thorin hinted. The accusation alone could spark a war considering their already shaky truce.

"I am not here to make accusations. I have explored the claim as well as I can on my side, so now I am coming to you." Only Bard could make an accusation without actually making an accusation.

"There is only one instance in which such a claim could apply and I am well aware of it, since it was I who took the mare."

Bard stared at him in disbelief. "You did it? Yourself?"

Thorin nodded and answered calmly. "I did."

Bard was near gaping now. "You admit that you broke the treaty?"

"I did no such thing. That and this are entirely unrelated. If anything, it is you who has broken the treaty." Thorin posed a counter challenge. 

Bard looked confused before understanding dawned in his eyes. "The mare was a khuzd?" He asked to be sure.

"No, but neither was she one of yours and she certainly wasn't there by her own will, considering she was tied to a post." Thorin growled the last part. "I simply responded to a mare in distress."

Bard looked confused. "If it wasn't a Khuzd and it wasn't one of ours, then what was it?" 

Thorin ground his teeth. The humans always referred to centaurs as if they were animals rather than people. "We believe she was captured in the west and imported here, probably by smugglers."

"You believe? Why haven't you just asked?" 

"She does not speak Westron." 

Bard looked at him searchingly. "Where is this mare?"

"She was traumatized by your people's treatment of her. She will not wish to see you." Thorin accused.

Bard seemed to come to a conclusion. "You will have to forgive me, but I'm afraid I can't take your word on this matter, considering you have admitted to being the one who made the offense. I will need to see this mare for myself." 

"Are you questioning my honor?" Thorin growled.

"Of course not. But this is a matter of delicacy. Both of our peoples have made . . 'complaints' against the other. It seems that this matter would be easily settled by simply examining the mare in question. And I cannot return to my people without fully investigating the matter." 

Thorin stood calculating for several moments before sighing. "Dwalin, go get the pony."

Dwain just raised a brow. "He's not gonna like it." He grumbled just loud enough for Thorin to hear before turning to head back into the camp.

"Pony? I thought that was an insult to your kind?" Bard asked curiously.

"In this case, we are using the term literally. The mare seems to be of a smaller race from the west." Balin explained diplomatically. 

"Smaller than Khazad?" Bard asked not intending the insult he just gave them.

Thorin just grit his teeth, tired of dealing with humans for the day. It was Balin who answered. "So it appears."

They waited a few more minutes, before a piercing squeal sounded through the camp. Bard jolted from his casual stance of leaning against his Domestic. "What?"

"It seems you will have to fetch him yourself." Balin mumbled quietly to Thorin as the ruckus continued near the edge of the camp. 

"You will have to excuse me." Thorin directed at Bard half-heartedly before turning and briskly walking towards the camp. 

Bard looked to Balin for an explanation. 

"As Thorin mentioned, the pony has had a bad experience with humans. She will not wish to see you." Balin explained.

When Thorin arrived on the scene, the pony was rearing and kicking out at Dwalin, who was trying to reign him in. Dwalin cursed as Bilbo let out another displeased squeal.

"Enough!" Thorin barked at both of them.

Bilbo settled obediently at the Lead Stallions voice and Dwalin backed off.

"Come!" He commanded the pony, holding out his arm for the pony to join him. As much as he hated it, he knew there was no pleasant way to do this. 

Bilbo looked at him, fear and determination warring with his need to submit and please. 

"Come." Thorin ordered again, softer.

Bilbo shook his head and backed away from him.

Thorin fought back his reflex to react aggressively. The Lead Stallion was to be obeyed, but he understood Bilbo's fear of the humans amplified by his inability to understand what was going on. 

Thorin took a step towards him. "Come." He ordered again gently. He didn't know how to convey that the pony would be safe with him. 

As Thorin watched the pony's face crumble along with his resolve, he swore to himself that the humans would pay for this. He would demand compensation.

Thorin thought Bilbo had decided to cooperate since he started walking towards him, but, just before he got to Thorin, he spun around and presented his rump, lifting his tail to the side invitingly.

Thorin was momentarily stunned at the offer just long enough for a Dis to step in and push the pony's rear aside. 

"Now look what you've done." She scolded Thorin. "The poor thing thinks your handing him over because he hasn't mated you yet."

"That wasn't my intention." He was still in a bit of a daze, but grateful that Dis stepped in before he had the chance to go against everything he had intended for the pony.

Dis guided the pony to Thorin's side, trying to soothe him. She glared at Thorin when he was too slow to do the same.

He petted the pony soothingly, mumbling reassurences, before guiding him out of the camp with an arm around his upper back. By the time, they had made it back the the meeting point, the poor pony was in tears and trembling. 

Thorin stayed with Bilbo as he marched the pony between Bard's party and his own, having him stand crosswise between them. Thorin took up a defensive stance right next to the pony.

Bard looked the pony over carefully. "I want to believe in your honor, but I find it hard when you try to pass this very male stallion before me as a mare."

"He is both mare and stallion and he is in season. If you don't believe me have one of yours check him." Thorin tried to restrain the growl in his voice. 

Bard raised a brow at him, but signaled his Domestic to check the pony. 

Bilbo shifted as the Domestic approached him from behind and Thorin steadied him with a hand on his back. Thorin stepped closer to Bilbo's rear, preparing to interfere if necessary.

The Domestic ran his hand down the side of the pony's rump, producing the reflexive tail lifting response. 

Bilbo sobbed into his hands, waiting to be bred. Thorin grit his teeth, forcing back his instinctive response to defend and fight for his mare. Every muscle felt spring loaded.

The Domestic's nostrils flared as he took in the heat scent. Just as he surged forward to mount the pony, Thorin slammed into him, holding nothing back. The Domestic was knocked clear off his feet with a squeal. 

Thorin stepped around Bilbo and took a defensive stance between the pony's rump and Bard's group. "Is that proof enough for you?" He growled, still barely restraining his instincts.

Bard was gaping in shock as his Domestic scrambled to get back on his feet. "How is that possible? He is clearly male."

"He seems to fully equipped as both mare and stallion. We have already had him examined by our physician. We believe it's related to his race, which is all but unknown to us." Balin interfered sensing the Lead Stallion's tension.

"Now that your accusations have proven to be false, I have my own to make. Your people have been found in clear violation of our treaty by possessing one of our kind against their will." Thorin declared.

Bard considered the pony. "He is of an unknown race, the treaty shouldn't apply."

"The treaty applies to all centaur regardless of race. It even applies to your own. Should they choose to leave your service, they are to be granted freedom. To hold any centaur regardless of race, tribe, or gender against their will is a violation of the treaty." Thorin backed Bard into a corner.

"I can't control every single one of my people, you know it's inevitable that some will act against the treaty." Bard knew he was loosing this battle.

"As king, it's your job to take responsibility for your people's actions." Thorin countered. 

Bard squinted, trying to think of a way out, but obviously came up with nothing. He sighed in defeat. "Very well. I acknowledge that my people have over stepped the bounds of the treaty. I offer you my formal apology and recompense in the form of edible goods." 

Thorin nodded, only marginally appeased, but before he could respond Dis barged into the conversation. "And what of the pony?" She challenged. 

"What of the pony?" Bard asked confused.

"Your 'people' have done him physical and psychological damage from both before and just now." She accused. "Bringing harm or distress to a mare is a grave offense. You will compensate him for the personal offences you and your people have made against him." 

"And what would he ask of me, considering he doesn't even speak our language?" Bard asked in mild disbelief.

"We are already teaching him Westron. We will inform you when he decides what he desires as his compensation." She informed the human, allowing no arguments on the matter. 

Bard looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. "Very well. I will have the food goods delivered. I will provide the pony his recompense when he decides what he wants." He said as he started to climb up onto his Domestic. "If there are any other matters you wish to address, you know where to find me." 

With that, Bard and his company turned to leave. Thorin was still trying to ease out of the tension he had been worked up into, but knew he needed to tend to the pony. 

Bilbo's eyes were wide with confusion and renewed hope when Thorin approached him. He lowered his head in submission, but Thorin cupped his cheeks in his hands and lifted the pony's face until he could look him in the eye. 

Bilbo shyly met his eyes as Thorin wiped the tears from his face. Thorin nickered as he nuzzled into the pony's hair. He was surprised when a soft nicker was shyly returned. Thorin smiled at him before leading him back to Dis.

"That was good thinking." He complimented her.

"Well, of course. He deserves to get more out of this ordeal than just his freedom."

Thorin nodded in agreement. "I think some pampering is in order for the rest of the day, don't you think?" He suggested as he handed the pony over.

Dis smirked and guided the pony back into the camp, already planning a days worth of de-stressing activities. 

Thorin turned to Balin. "Well, it worked out better then we hoped."

Balin nodded. "Bard is a reasonable man, the day he is replaced will be a day for concern." 

"Today is not that day." Thorin reassured. 

The centaurs returned to their camp and continued with their usual business for the day.


	6. Dilemmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've posted Fili and Kili's profiles. I've also posted the Khuzd centaur racial profile, but it's not done yet. I'll be working on it gradually as I get my thoughts in order, but since it will take a while to finish, I figured I'd give you access to what I have gotten done. It's under Chapter 2.

It was a nice summer day as Bilbo sat in the field with Dis and Sharli while they did some leather work. They had tried to involve him, but, having never worked with leather before, he wasn't picking it up very well. They eventually decided that they would take the time to teach him some other time, when they didn't have so much that needed mending. 

So, he just sat near them, munching on the fruit that Fili and Kili had found for him and picking at the flowers around him, absently making a flower chain.

It had been a three weeks now since he had joined Thorin's herd. He was still a little baffled by the different herd dynamics, but found them immensely preferable to what he was used to.

Dis and the boys had quickly adopted him, letting him stay in their tent. He stayed close to Dis and did his best to learn everything she was teaching him. She worked with him throughout the day every day with learning words and phrases in their language. He could already understand some of what was being said, even if he couldn't say it very well himself.

Thorin continued to shower him with affection and would come check up on him several times a day. Bilbo was a little confused by the whole 'courting' thing, but found he enjoyed it nonetheless. He wasn't sure how he was expected to reciprocate, though, and that worried him a bit. 

He really liked Thorin. He was gentle and treated him with respect. Not to mention he was gorgeous; Bilbo could watch the stallion all day, tracing with his eyes the way Thorin's muscles rippled under his skin as he moved about. He didn't want to accidentally scorn or discourage the Lead Stallion, but was still learning what his place was in this new herd.

Fortunately, he didn't feel any pressure from Thorin, which was one of the things Bilbo liked best about him. Bilbo had always dreamed of being able to choose his own mate, and he'd pretty much already dicided to accept the Lead Stallion, if said Stallion ever got around to asking that is. Bilbo wasn't really sure what the stallion was waiting for considering his attentions had been far from innocent lately, not that Bilbo was complaining 

Though that incident with the humans had terrified him. He had been sure Thorin was going to hand him back over to the humans. But Dis had assured him later that it was all for his own freedom, at least, he thought that was what she was saying. 

It must have been though, since they had made no indication since then that he would ever have to leave. And Bilbo was quite sure he'd be happy to stay with them for good. Though he was quickly learning that these centaur had their own problems.

Their herd was quiet small, considering they had both stallions and mares in it. Bilbo suspected it was likely because of their food situation. Since they were meat-eaters, which Bilbo had never heard of before, they relied heavily on hunting for their herd's survival.

The problem was, despite always having a hunting team out, their hunters seemed to bring back relatively few kills, which was probably why they ate so little. Bilbo was mortified when he realized that eating only two are three times a day was normal for them, but had been too afraid to ask for more. 

Fortunately, Dis had noticed his almost constantly rumbling belly and had prepared a sack for him to fill with fruit and keep with him, which her boys dutifully helped to keep stocked.

He couldn't imagine eating so little, though he suspected it was more out of necessity then preference for them. He wondered if there was anyway he could help them after all they had done and were doing for him. He would have to think about it.

As he was sitting there silently musing to himself, his ears picked up a rumbling sound that he learned to associate with a certain duo of young stallions. Moments later they were collapsing down just a little ways in front of him, with one large and one small sack of fruit.

"Here you go, Bilbo. We found some more of those blue berries you liked so much." Fili said as he handed over the smaller bag.

Bilbo nickered in pleasure at the bag of treats.

They proceeded to empty the large sack, showing him what they had found. They typically did this at least once a day. They would go out into the woods and bring back whatever they could find. Bilbo would go through it all and pick out the ones that were no good and try to show why they were no good and would keep the rest.

Talking with the young stallions felt more like a game of charades than an actual conversation most of the time. A couple of days ago they had brought him some berries that were poisonous and, after spending fifteen minutes trying to tell them they were dangerous, finally just pretended to eat one and and dramatically keel over dead.

Well, it got the point across, but it also caused quite a stir. The boys had panicked which got the mares' attentions and eventually even got the Lead Stallion's attention. Bilbo was rather embarrassed by the whole thing and it took Dis figuring out what Bilbo was trying to tell them before everything died down.

Now it was more or less routine for them to dramatically act out thier conversations. Though Bilbo wouldn't complain, it was helping him pick up on the language much faster.

Apparently they had encounter a giant monster squirrel in their quest to pick his apples today. At least, that what he was getting from their dramatization and the words he could pick up. He just chuckled, the boys were fun in a hyperactive crazy kind of way.

"Hey, Bilbo. Can I ask you something? I'm super curious." Kili suddenly changed topic.

Bilbo took a moment to translate before nodding his head.

"Are ponies like you usually on the top or bottom?" Kili asked.

Bilbo didn't have a clue what they were talking about. He only understood the 'ponies' and 'you.' 

Kili asked again, this time making the motions for high and low.

Bilbo shook his head. He didn't know what Kili was talking about.

This time Fili tried to explain. "Are ponies like you like stallions," he motioned to himself and Kili, "or mares?" He finished gesturing to Dis and Sharli a little ways away.

Fili made the gestures again this time simplifying his question. "You like us? Or like them?"

Bilbo was even more confused now. He liked everyone.

Kili rubbed his stubble in thought. "All right, its like this. Are you a mounter?" Kili started making some strange gestures with his hands. "Or a mounted?" He started doing something else strange with his hands.

Bilbo stared at Kili's hands suspiciously, he couldn't possibly be . . 

"No way, Kili. It's more like this, really." Now Fili started making some very suggestive hand motions.

Bilbo's face started to heat. Yep, that was definitely what they were doing. What did this have to do with him, the boys and the mares?! Was this some kind of strange ritual?! Was he expected to participate?! 

Bilbo was more concerned than embarrassed now. He looked up just noticing that Thorin was walking over. It didn't look like the boys had noticed him yet. "Thorin" Bilbo greeted, face still a little red.

"What? No. We're not asking who you want to mate." Fili misunderstood.

"No, I got it! Look, it's more like this." This time Kili really got into the motions and startled an embarrassed nicker out of Bilbo.

Both stallions received a firm smack on the back of their head. They both nickered in surprise before looking up to find their uncle glaring down at them. 

_~Thorin~_

"Oh, hey Uncle." Kili said unrepentantly.

"What are you doing?"

"We were _trying_ to ask Bilbo if ponies like him were usually mounters or mounteds." Kili explained. 

"He wasn't understanding us so we were trying to show him what we were talking about." Fili further explained.

Thorin studied the pony who cautiously returned his gaze. He hadn't considered that Bilbo might prefer a stallion role. He had the parts for it, but the constant heat scent made it hard to see him as anything but a mare.

"It seems all you managed to accomplish was to embarrass and confuse him." Thorin scolded.

The boys turned to examine Bilbo, who stifled a flinch from their combined attention, but still swished his tail a bit nervously. 

The boys apologized sheepishly before gathering up the fruit they had brought for him. They deposited the sack next to him as the got up to leave, giving their uncle some time with the pony.

Thorin walked around until he could sit down next to Bilbo. Bilbo greeted him with a nicker when Thorin leaned over to nuzzle into the pony's hair. He nickered back and started stroking the pony's back, enjoying the feel of him under his fingers.

"Your sons are like two giant pains in my arse." He complained to his sister.

She just chuckled. She had been listening in on the conversation, but hadn't felt the need to interfere until the end and Thorin beat her to it. "They didn't mean any harm."

"They usually don't. It doesn't keep them from causing it." He grumbled.

She scoffed. "As if you and Frerin were any different."

Thorin fought down a smirk. He and Frerin had been quite the trouble-makers in their youth, not that he would ever admit it now. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She just scoffed at him, she knew better than that.

"It's a good thing you're here. We need to talk about some things. Do you have a few minutes?" Dis segued to a new topic.

Thorin stretched out his forlegs. He had very been busy lately. Several stallions had either left or arrived and the game shortage was becoming an increasing concern. "I have the rest of the day unless they come for me." He said referring to his advisors.

"Well, I think that's enough for me today. I'll take what we got done here and go put them away." Sharli said as she got up and excused herself so the two could talk.

Dis thanked her for her help and stood up to see her off before settling down closer to Thorin and Bilbo. She raised a brow at her brother who had practically wrapped himself around the pony, nuzzling and stroking in not entirely innocent ways. 

Bilbo squirmed in embarrassment under the Lead Stallions ministrations, but otherwise seemed to be enjoying the attention. When Thorin nibbled on Bilbo's ear, startling an aroused nicker out of the pony, Dis finally decided to interrupt.

Dis cleared her throat, suspecting the Thorin had already forgotten they were supposed to be having a talk.

Thorin glared at her over from over Bilbo's short curly hair. "What?"

She raised a brow at him. "If you go any farther, you might as well just mate him. I doubt he'd refuse."

Thorin sighed. "I wanted to give him more time, but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold myself back." He said nuzzling into the pony's hair.

"Then stop holding back. Just mate him already. I don't get what's stopping you."

Thorin sighed, he wasn't sure anymore either. 

"You do realize he's been propositioned by several stallions already since he's been here?" 

Thorin jolted upright. "What?" He growled. "I claimed him, they're supposed to challenge me before even approaching him."

Dis shrugged. "The traditions are fading because there are so few mares to go around. They knew they didn't stand a chance against you, so they went around you when you weren't looking."

Thorin tensed in anger, but when Bilbo nickered at him in concern, Thorin comforted himself by wrapping himself back around the pony and nuzzling into his neck.

"He declined them all, Thorin, he knows he has a choice."

"Yes, but I am the Lead Stallion; he may not think he does with me." Thorin finally expressed his concern.

"Mahal, Thorin, everyone else has noticed how he watches you all the time. Even your nephews know he has his eyes on you. Do you really think he'd accept this," she gestured at him, "if he didn't want you? You're practically smothering him in stallion repellent."

"Doesn't seem to be working." He groused, but Dis had a point. He had been really pushing the courting boundaries. In fact, a lot of what he had been doing just since he sat here was considered mated territory. He just couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself when he was near the pony, especially not when Bilbo responded so favorably.

But still, it had only been three weeks, the pony was still adjusting.

Dis just shook her head at him. "I think part of the problem is he's still in season. His season should have ended over two weeks ago."

Thorin straightened up to better consider the pony. Thorin had started to not notice the scent as much, but the pheromone rich air could definitely be messing with his self-restraint. "Perhaps his kind have long seasons."

Dis shook her head. "I asked him about it. It took awhile, but with Fili and Kili's help, I think we were able to get some answers." 

"And?" 

"I think his kind is always in season, Thorin." She stared at Thorin waiting for that to sink in.

Thorin looked skeptical. "That's not possible."

Dis raised a brow at him before addressing the pony himself. "Bilbo," the pony perked up and focused on her, "You heat season all time, no foal?" She spoke slowely, simplifying her question to words he would know.

Bilbo took a moment to translate before nodding. "Yes."

Dis looked back at her brother expectantly, but he was stuck between awe and confusion. He hadn't realized the pony had already learned so much.

"He says he's always fertile, except when he's with foal. We asked him many times in many ways and his answer is always the same. He's not going to go out of season, Thorin." Dis explained.

Thorin was nearly gaping at the pony. Fertile all the time?! Such a thing was too good to be true! That meant he could conceive at any time! It also meant his heat scent and pheromones were permanent. Thorin's mouth snapped shut as he considered what that would mean.

"So you do see the problem. Why do you think so many stallions have been leaving so late in the season? He's too tempting in this state to be left unmated. The ones who are leaving have enough honor to remove themselves from the temptation, but not all stallions are honorable. Leaving him unmated, makes him vulnerable, Thorin." Dis tried to reason with him.

Thorin burried his nose in the pony's hair. Dis was right. If he was Khuzd, it wouldn't be as much of a concern. But he wasn't, he could easily be overpowered by any one of their stallions.

Dis sighed. "I watch over him as best as I can, but he's not always going to be happy being glued to my side. The best protection for him is to carry his mates scent, and rubbing on him isn't going to cut it." She raised her brow suggestively. 

Bilbo leaned into Thorin comfortingly, having picked up on the stallions distress. Thorin grinned into the pony's hair. Perhaps he had waited long enough. "All right." He would propose to the pony, but later when he could be alone with him. 

Dis just nodded in satisfaction.

Thorin was trailing his fingers along Bilbo's sides when he remember a concern he had been meaning to address with his sister. "He's not gaining much weight."

Dis nodded. "That's the other thing we need to talk about. Apparently, his kind eats almost constantly."

Thorin stared at her in disbelief.

Dis just shrugged. "I was feeding him whenever we ate, but his stomach would growl relentlessly. I tried to make sure he ate more often, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Finally, I just made him that pouch there to keep with him and your nephews help keep it stocked. I've been watching him, Thorin, he eats many times throughout the day."

"Then how is he not gaining any weight?" Thorin asked baffled.

"I think he's only eating enough to keep the hunger at bay. He knows we have low food supplies, he didn't want to ask for more. Fruit doesn't stay fresh long, we need to find a way to preserve some for the winter, otherwise he won't make it. Considering his appetite, he may still not make it. It will be near impossible to gather enough to last him the whole winter this late in the summer."

Thorin's stomach dropped. "He will have enough, even if we have to trade for it." He wouldn't allow the pony's loss.

Dis nodded. She didn't feel the need to say anymore on the matter.

Bilbo nickered softly at Thorin as his grip around the pony tightened. He would not lose Bilbo. He _could_ not. He would do whatever it took to see him through the winter.

"Was that all you wished to talk about." Thorin spoke into Bilbo's hair.

"Well, other than his general dislike of clothing, I suppose I should mention that I informed him that he was entitled to compensation from the humans. He said he would think about what he wanted, though food might be the best choice right now."

Thorin nodded then chuckled. "I noticed that he hasn't been wearing anything. I just thought you hadn't found anything to fit him."

Dis huffed. "I've made him things, Thorin, he just doesn't like to wear them."

Thorin chuckled again. "Maybe his people don't wear clothes."

Dis huffed again. "They probably don't migrate either, but he's going to wish he was wearing something when winter comes around."

"I'm sure he'll adjust." Thorin personally didn't mind the lack of clothing, it made the pony easier to pet. He was sure Bilbo would learn to wear them when it started getting cooler.

"So, when should I be expecting this mating mount." She raised an expectent brow at her brother.

Thorin huffed. She wasn't going to give him any peace until he had officially mated the pony. "Soon." Was all he would say.

"You have one week. If he's not mated by then, I'll get Dwalin to do it. He seemed interested enough." She threatened.

Thorin growled at her. "Bilbo already refused him. You can't tell him who he'll mate."

She just smirked at him as she got up. "Mares can change their minds. Being in season is like having an itch that needs scratched. Wait too long and he'll find someone else to scratch it." She doubted Bilbo would accept anyone else, but Thorin didn't need to know that.

Thorin glared at her and tightened his grip on the pony defensively.

She walked back to camp grinning victoriously to herself. Stallions were just too easy sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank withatwistedlyre for the inspiration for the scene between Fili, Kili and Bilbo. It's a little different than what you envisioned, but without your idea, I wouldn't have thought of it. :)


	7. Lawbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've posted Balin's and Dwalin's profiles.

It had been several days since Thorin and Dis had talked, and he still hadn't had the chance to propose to Bilbo. Stallions were arriving every day in a rush to integrate into a herd before the herds picked up and started their migrations for the colder seasons. 

Thorin had to greet and orientate every stallion that arrived, informing them of the herd rules and expectations before accepting them into the herd. Most, if not all, of the stallions would only stay until late spring when the herds settled again, but to prevent problems, each one had to be interrogated to ensure they would cooperate with the herd.

Occasionally, he would have to refuse a stallion entrance into the herd or the stallion would choose to attempt to make it to another herd if they didn't agree with the rules and expectations. 

Between dealing with the stallions and overseeing the preparations for this years migration, he had his hands full. In only a couple of weeks, they would begin their migration south, which meant leaving their permenamt fixtures behind: their meat drying ovens, their smithies, their mines, and their storage caverns.

They had to winterize what they couldn't take, dry as much meat as possible, finish what metal work they could, repair their weapons and armor, and the list went on. Thorin's advisors and family helped with a lot of it, but as Lead Stallion he was expected to personally oversee that everything got done.

He sighed as he finished his first round of checks for the day. He would much rather be loving on his pony, but these things had to get done in time for migration. Hopefully, things would settle soon as they finished things up and stallions stopped coming in. 

Though Thorin thought he better find some time to squeeze the pony in. He didn't want to risk losing him to another stallion. He was pretty sure Dis was just bluffing, but that didn't mean he couldn't lose him to one of these new stallions if he took too long.

But at the same time, he didn't want to rush through the mating. Normally, stallions were given a few days off from their herd duties to spend with their new mates. He couldn't afford to do that at the moment, and he didn't want to deprive Bilbo (or himself) of that.

But, he didn't like leaving Bilbo unclaimed with all these new stallions around either. He sighed again. Perhaps he would have to find some kind of compromise.

Thorin's day became instantly better at the sight a particular little pony heading his way with his sister. He smiled and greeted him with a nicker and nuzzle.

"Bilbo says he knows what he wants from the humans." Dis informed him.

"And what is that?" Thorin directed more at Bilbo than his sister.

Bilbo said something in his own language and Thorin looked at his sister for an explanation.

She just shrugged. "We can't figure out what it is. The colts have been over just about everything we have in the camp with him. It's not something we have here, and, since we can't figure out what it is, I can't teach him the word for it."

"Then how are we supposed to make sure he gets it?" Thorin asked baffled by what it could be.

"The only way I can think of is to take him with us to see the humans when we go to trade and hope they have what he's looking for."

"You want us to take him back to see those humans? You want to risk traumatizing him again?" He wouldn't have it. 

She slapped his arm. "It wouldn't be an issue if you had mated him already!" She scolded him. "Besides, he can understand us better now, if you keep him close to you and assure him you aren't handing him over, he should be fine."

Thorin rubbed his arm, Dis never held back with him. He still didn't like it. He looked at the pony. "Are you okay with that? Going to see the humans?" He spoke slowly, but wasn't sure what words Bilbo did and didn't know.

Bilbo focused on Thorin as he spoke, but soon started shifting and looking conflicted. "I . . stay you, yes?" He asked heartrendingly uncertain, glancing at both Thorin and Dis.

Thorin couldn't help himself. He wrapped Bilbo in his arms, nuzzling and petting affectionately. "Yes, you stay with us always, if you want." He rumbled in reassurance. 

Bilbo hesitantly nuzzled into Thorin's chest with a nicker. "Yes, go . . humans . . you."

Thorin nuzzled him again. "I will stay close to you. I will protect you." He murmured further reassurances, regardless of wether Bilbo understood them or not.

He seemed to understand some of it at least, since he nodded into Thorin's chest.

Just then a stallion trotted up and informed Thorin that a new stallion had arrived and was awaiting his approval.

Thorin sighed, not wanting to leave his pony, but began loosening his hold on him anyway. "Where are you headed now?"

"The field for some exercise. He likes the field and just because we're working doesn't mean we can't take some time to take care of our own needs every now and then." Dis answered.

Thorin nodded, finally letting go of the pony. "Stay close to the camp, there are a lot of new stallions about. They may not all be as agreeable as they claim." He cautioned them before turning to follow the stallion who had been waiting for him.

He followed the stallion to the eastern edge of the camp and was greeted by Dwalin and a familiar scruffy stallion wearing his trademark strange hat. "Bofur." He greeted. "Didn't we see you just over a month ago? The iron hills not suit you?"

Bofur grinned amiably. "Naw, truth is, it's not really any better over there then it is here food wise and I find the company here a bit better." 

Thorin smirked. "You didn't find my cousin good company?" 

"Oh, Dain's good enough company, but his herd was at it's limit so I volunteered to hit the road and make more room for their own."

"I take it you didn't find what you were looking for, then?" Dwalin asked gruffly.

Bofur's smile sobered a bit. "Nah, truth is, things are pretty rough no matter where you go. It's the same all around."

Thorin nodded in understanding. He had gathered much the same from many migrating stallions. "Well, let's get this over with, shall we?" Even though he knew Bofur, it was still standard to run through the herd rules and expectations with him before accepting him into the herd.

They got through it all pretty smoothly, since Bofur had already heard most of it before. Bofur was agreeable by nature, so didn't have any problems with any of it anyway. Just as Thorin finished initiating Bofur into the herd, a loud distressed squeal rang through the camp.

Thorin knew that squeal. He took off after the sound without a moments hesitation. Dwalin and Bofur close behind him. He thundered into the field where he knew Bilbo would be and was enraged by the sight.

One of the new stallions was trying to mount Bilbo by force. He had yet to get a proper mount since Bilbo was floundering under his weight, but he had a firm grip on Bilbo's upper arms and was preventing the pony from bucking.

Dis was rearing and trying to kick at the stallion, but he would swing the pony around by his arms to put between them whenever she tried and she wasn't willing to risk hitting Bilbo.

When Thorin came thundering at the stallion with a bellow, he swung Bilbo around to put the pony between them, thinking it would stop the Lead Stallion. Thorin didn't even slow down. He charged straight for them, rearing at the last second and kicking at the stallion over Bilbo's head. 

Bilbo squealed at being caught between the two big stallions, but Thorin's strike landed true and hit the rogue stallion square in the upper chest. The stallion grunted from the impact and swayed. His hold on Bilbo loosened and Bilbo yanked away and started bucking to dislodge the stallion.

Thorin moved aside just enough to give Bilbo room to buck. When the stallion finally slumped off The pony's back, Bilbo threw in a parting kick, hitting the atallion in his left foreleg shoulder before retreating to Dis's arms behind Thorin.

By now, most of the herd had congregated on the field. Sharli joined Dis and Bilbo and several stallions, including Gloin, Fili, and Kili, took up a defensive stance around the mares. Dwalin hovered behind Thorin prepared to provide backup if necessary.

Thorin reared and stomped threateningly. "What is the meaning of this?!"

When the stallion didn't answer fast enough, Dis filled Thorin in. "He propositioned Bilbo three times; He wouldn't take no for an answer!"

"You have violated not only the rules of my herd, but a mare's rights as well! A mare is never to be forced to mate!"

"That thing's not a mare!!" The rogue stallion spit out like venom. "It's a freak and, if it's going to leach off our resources, the least it can do is lend our people it's fertility! The Mare's Rights don't apply to that . . thing! It should be grateful to be used as a broodmare, let alone be chosen at all!!"

Thorin willed himself calm. He wanted to lash out and stomp and kick the stallion into a bloody pulp, but this was about more than challenging Thorin's claim. This was a matter of violating Khuzd law. As a Tribal lead Stallion, he had to deal with it accordingly. 

"Bilbo has been accepted and integrated into my heard at my approval with appropriate mare status as a fertile bearer. I have personally made a claim to court him. You have violated my claim by going around my back and you have violated the Khuzd law of Mare's Rights. Have you no honor?!" 

"You and you're 'honor' is the reason your tribe is dying! Our people will never last if we continue to hold to such outdated traditions! A fertile mare should be mated whether she wants it or not!" 

"Dwalin! Gloin!" Thorin had heard enough.

Dwalin and Gloin sprung forward and grabbed the stallion before he could get away. The damage from Bilbo's kick to his shoulder had significantly reduced his reaction time. When he tried to buck and kick, Thorin drew his sword and held it to his throat. 

"I find you guilty, here before the witnesses of my herd, of breaking Khuzd law and holding it in contempt. I sentence you to exile from all Khuzd tribes and herds. If there are any here who wish to dispute this stallions guilt, speak now!" He announced loud enough for everyone to hear.

There was only silence. "If you resist your sentence, you will be killed instead." He said when the stallion started struggling.

The stallion paled. "You can't do that! You're not even a real Tribal Lead!!"

Thorin ignored him. He had heard the jab before. "Balin! The brand!"

"Aye!" Balin walked up holding a red hot branding iron. He knew this was how things would end as soon as the rogue stallion had first spoken and had prepared ahead of time.

Thorin took it from Balin. As Tribal Lead Stallion it was his responsibility to mete out the punishment. Dwalin and Gloin held the stallion steady. Thorin mercilessly thrust the brand into the stallions back thigh. It was a simple brand of a broken hammer, the hammer representing their maker Mahal, and broken to signify violation of sacred Khuzd law.

The stallion squealed, drowning out the burning hiss of the brand on his skin. Thorin pulled the brand away and handed it back to Balin to take care of. Gloin and Dwalin both released the stallion giving him a shove away from the camp. He would no longer be welcome in any Khuzd herd.

The stallion limped off quickly with a look of pure fury on his face. 

"Dwalin. Follow him. Make sure he gets far enough away from the herd." Thorin ordered.

Dwalin nodded and did as he was commanded.

The crowd started to disperse with a quiet murmur and the defensive line that had formed around the mares parted as the Lead Stallion approached. 

"Bilbo." He addressed the pony stopping several feet away, not wanting to invade his space after the near violation. Thorin could tell he was still shaking. When Bilbo turned to look at him from his spot protectively nestled between the two mares, Thorin lifted his arms in invitation and request.

Bilbo hesitantly left his safe space but nearly lunged into Thorin's arms. He clung to the large stallion, seeking confort and reassurance after his ordeal. 

Thorin wrapped him up in his arms nuzzling and stroking him, mumbling words of comfort into his ear. By the time Bilbo had stopped shaking, most of the stallions had returned to their business. The mares and Thorin's nephews had stayed out of concern for the pony.

Finally, Oin walked up and swatted at Thorin. "Alright. Let me see him."

Thorin released his hold but didn't move away. Oin must have been satisfied since he started looking the pony over. Bilbo was still clinging to Thorin's armor and refused to be moved.

"Did he mount ye, lad?" Oin asked gruffly.

Bilbo shook his head. Oin nodded, trusting the pony's word, and continued his examination.

Other than the dark bruises appearing around his upper arms, the only injury Bilbo suffered was a sprained ankle, much to everyone's relief.

"Thank goodness. I'd have hunted that spawn of Mordor down myself if he had hurt the poor pony." Dis growled. Her colts were sticking close to her, still shaken from the threat against the mares. 

"I'm sure someone else will do it for us." Thorin reassured. Exiles were always at risk of being hunted down, should they wander too close to any herds.

"Well, bless my beard! Where'd ye find yerself a Curly on this side of the mountains?! And ain't he a looker. No wonder he caused such a fuss." Bofur ambled over admiring the pony innocently.

"Curly? Is that what his race is called?" Dis asked seeing an opportunity to get some answers.

"Aye. That's what we call 'em anyway. Their coats grow out all curly in the winter. Shy little buggers, though. Don't care much for strangers and almost never leave their homeland. How'd he get way over here?"

"The humans smuggled him over. What else do you know about his kind?" Thorin also wanted to know more.

Bofur scratched under his hat in thought. "Not a whole lot, really. They're super fertile; keep to themselves; have bearers stickin' out their ears! My cousin would know more. His grandmam on his mam's side was a curly. I guess his mam told him some things her mam told her about 'em."

It took Thorin a moment to decipher that last comment. "Your cousin is on the other side of the mountains."

"Yep, fraid so. Sorry, I can't tell ye more. I do know that their herds are entirely different, though I can't tell ya why."

"How so?" Dis had her own suspicious. 

"Each herd's only got one stallion. All the rest are mares and foals." 

"One Stallion?" Thorin was flabbergasted. "How can one Stallion take care of so many mares and foals?" He wondered out loud.

Bofur shook his head. "Don't think it works that way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dis didn't like the sound of that.

Bofur just shrugged. "Just a personal observation. Why don't you just ask this little fella?" He gestured to Bilbo.

"Bilbo is still learning Westron. We can only get so much out of him right now." Dis explained.

"Ah, not surprising. They don't like ta have much to do with anyone outside their own." Bofur nodded in understanding.

Then how did your cousin's grandfather mate one?" Thorin asked curious.

"Well, sometimes the ones like your little one here, the stallion mares, will leave and travel to one of our herds over there on the west side. Doesn't happen often, but it's always one of the stallion mares and they usually get mated to one of ours pretty quick." Bofur scratched his short beard in thought, "Maybe that's why us Stonehoofs run shorter than most the tribes."

"Only stallion mares? Not normal mares?" Thorin asked to confirm. He didn't really like the sound of that for some reason.

"Yep, guess they don't treat the stallion mares so well in their own herds. Makes 'em want to strike out looking for greener grass, if you know what I mean." He said with a suggestive wink at Bilbo.

"Bofur, by the way." He introduced himself to the pony. "Ye must have been strikin' out yerself and got caught before ye found a herd. Too bad, would have loved to find ye first."He said with another wink.

Thorin stomped, displeased with Bofur's flirting. 

Bofur raised his hands in surrender. "Aye. Ain't challengin' ya, yer highness. 'Sides, he seems pretty set on ya."

Bilbo had yet to detach from Thorin and was still leaning into his chest, soaking up Thorin's absent minded caresses. "I go . . find . herd . . humans . . stay me . . bring here." He pieced together a late response to Bofur's speculation.

They all stared at the pony. It was the longest sentence he had ever managed to piece together and it was even understandable. Thorin nickered proudly, nuzzling the pony as a reward. 

"Why did you leave, hun?" Dis asked gently.

Bilbo furrowed his brow scrunched his nose up in thought. "Mmmm. No . want . mate? No ask. I mate . . they want?" He tried to piece together an understandable response.

"What?" Thorin was struck more by disbelief than confusion.

"They were trying to force you to mate? Tell you you had to mate?" Dis asked incredulously.

Bilbo nodded after a few seconds of translating.

Bofur just nodded he figured it was something like that. After all, it wasn't in the nature of mares to migrate between herds. They stayed with family where it was safe, and never ventured out alone unless absolutely necessary. It would take something big to push the little bearers away from their own herds and tribe.

But Dis was seething and even Thorin was near gaping. He had just exiled a stallion for life for trying to do the same thing, yet it seems standard procedure for Bilbo's people. No wonder Bilbo had never shown any interest in returning.

"Well, he is one of ours now. He may choose to mate whomever he wishes." Dis reinforced, giving the pony an affectionate pet.

"Just as long as it's Uncle." Kili piped up. He and his brother had been so quiet, Dis and Thorin had forgotten they were there. 

"Even if it's not Thorin." Dis corrected. "And, since he seems to be taking his time, I wouldn't be surprised if the pony took another stallion up on the offer." She not so subtly hinted at Thorin.

Thorin huffed but, before he could respond, Bofur cut in.

"Oh, somehow I doubt that." He smirked and winked at the pony again, who just nuzzled deeper into Thorin's arms, staring distrustingly at the new stallion. Bofur laughed at the response. "Oh, I think this winter is going to be interesting." He said cheerfully before excusing himself and heading back to the camp.

Thorin just watched the scruffy stallion saunter off with a raised brow. He jumped when Dis smacked him in the arm, none to gently.

"Why haven't you mated him yet?! This may have never happen if you had!" She scolded him.

"And when do you suppose I should do that? While I'm drilling stallions or tallying supplies? Or maybe when I'm listening to reports?" He responded defensively. He wasn't any less frustrated about it than her.

"You have the rest of the day. Bilbo will need your attention anyway. I will take care of or postpone everything as necessary. If anymore stallions arrive, they can wait outside the camp until tomorrow. At least ask him!" She stomped off, her colts following close behind her.

Thorin sighed but when he looked down he was met by warm amber orbs staring up at him. He took Bilbo's head in his hands and nuzzled the pony's nose before placing a kiss to his forehead. "Walk with me?"

Bilbo nodded and Thorin took him by the hand and led him out into the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do consider requests. So if there's a scene you really want to see in the story. Let me know and I'll try to fit it in the best I can.
> 
> I also need some help coming up with names for Bombur's kids. I chose Kada for his wife, but if someone can think up something better, I don't mind changing it. (I'm really bad at coming up with names T_T)


	8. Mating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Centaur smut ahead.  
> I’ve added markers (~~~~~) so, if you like the story but the smut isn’t your thing, when you get to a marker, just jump down to the next one and you can skip the smut without missing out on any of the story. I’ll make sure I put the markers in future chapters as well.
> 
> Oin's profile was posted yesterday.
> 
> So, I just want to clarify, if I specify an 'upper' body part, I'm referring to the humanoid upper body. If I don't specify and it's not clear from the context, I'm referring to the lower horsey body. Ex. 'upper back' is referring to his humanoid back while his 'back' is mostly likely referring to his horsey back (unless context indicates otherwise). Same with 'upper chest' = humanoid chest and 'chest' = horsey chest (unless indicated otherwise). Sometimes I might add 'lower' if I'm referring to the horsey body just for added clarification.  
> *sigh* Centaurs and their duplicate body parts. >_<

Thorin led Bilbo a little ways into the field, mindful of his sprained ankle. They stopped and sat when they found a nice flowery spot. Bilbo started absently picking at the flowers.

He was as close as he could get, sitting flush against Thorin's side. Thorin could still detect a tremble now and then. They sat quietly for a while. Thorin had Bilbo wrapped protectively in his arms, caressing and stroking. 

Thorin nuzzled into Bilbo's ear. "I'm sorry."

Bilbo just leaned into him, clearly not blaming him for anything. 

Thorin shook his head. "I should have asked sooner." He ran his hand down Bilbo's back and over his croup since that was as far as he could reach without letting his pony go. 

Bilbo nickered in surprise, turning to Thorin with wide eyes, his tail lifting on instinct.

Thorin continued to sensually caress the pony's rump. "I want you, if you would have me as your mate." He rumbled into Bilbo's ear. It wasn't the most romantic proposal, but he didn't want his intent to be lost with words Bilbo didn't understand. Besides, he wasn't all that great with romantic prose anyway.

Bilbo squirmed under Thorin's caresses. "Yes, yes!" He whispered breathlessly, nuzzling Thorin back.

Thorin ran his fingers through Bilbo's short curly hair, gripping just tightly enough the tilt the pony's head back where he wanted it. He gently pressed his lips to Bilbo's, savoring their first kiss. He didn't get to savor it for long before Bilbo was opening his mouth in invitation and pulling him forward by his armor. 

Thorin gladly took the invitation, deepening the kiss, and plundered the willing pony's mouth until Bilbo was panting and glassy eyed. When they finally pulled apart for some air, Bilbo started mumbling something in his language.

Thorin was confused at first until Bilbo regained his presence of mind enough to translate into Westron. "Now! Please! Mate me now!" He practically begged. 

"Now? Here?" Thorin understood the sentiment, but the first mount had to be official.

Bilbo nodded, chasing another kiss and Thorin gladly obliged. 

Bilbo was squirming with a purpose now, clearly ready to be mounted. The next time they parted for breath, Thorin took Bilbo's face in his hands. "I can't. Not here." If Thorin wasn't a Lead, he might be able to get away with it, but Bilbo needed to be officially recognized as his mate. 

Bilbo sobered and started to pull away, misunderstanding Thorin's reluctance. 

Thorin gently pulled him back in. "Let me explain. We need to mate in front of the herd so that you are . . so they see you are mine." He didn't feel like that properly explained it, but wasn't sure how else to say it with Bilbo's limited vocabulary.

Bilbo took a moment to process that, but didn't pull away. "All herd?"

Thorin nodded, gently stroking his thumbs over the pony's cheeks. 

Bilbo started fidgeting for an entirely different reason now. "All herd?" He asked again, as if hoping for a different answer. 

Perhaps Curies had no such ceremony. "How do your people mate?"

Bilbo shrugged. "Any time. Any place."

Thorin raised a brow at that. "Do you not mate in public?"

"Yes, but herd not . . watch?" Bilbo tried the less familiar word. 

"Does it bother you? That we will have to mate with them watching." Thorin would give Bilbo time to adjust to the idea if he needed it. He released Bilbo's face and wrapped his arms around his waist instead.

Bilbo looked torn with indecision, clearly he didn't really want to wait. "I not . . mate before." He confessed shyly.

Thorin realized that he was referring to being mounted, not actually mating. Was he worried because he was inexperienced? Afraid to mess up while being watched? Thorin pulled him into a gentle nuzzle before resting their foreheads together. "Me too." 

Bilbo looked at him surprised. "Really?"

Thorin nodded against him. It's not like mares were abundant. Most were either too young or already mated. The few he met that were available, didn't strike his fancy. "Mating mounts are usually the first for us, no one will expect you to be experienced." He reassured.

Bilbo seemed to relax into Thorin as he processed that. He nodded, encouraged by the revelations. "Okay. But, today? Please?" 

Thorin chuckled at Bilbo's eagerness. Perhaps he _had_ waited too long. He had thought Bilbo would come to him if he was ready, but perhaps that wasn't how Curlies did things. "Yes, today." Today suited Thorin just fine. 

In fact, why wait? Thorin pushed himself up off the ground, pulling the pony up after him. "Now?" He asked to make sure Bilbo was okay with it as he turned to head back to the camp.

Bilbo followed after him eagerly with only a slight limp. "Yes! Yes!"

Thorin chuckled as they headed back to the camp. They headed straight for the meeting tent since it was the most likely place to find at least one of his advisors. When they walked in, he found his sister conferencing with Balin about supplies. 

She looked up and frowned upon seeing Thorin. "I told you to spend the day with him. You've barely been gone an hour. Did you even ask him yet?" 

Thorin huffed. "I just came to inform you that we'll be performing the mating mount . . today . . as soon as possible." Thorin said as led Bilbo back out of the tent. He heard his sister squawk at him as he left. 

A moment later she came dashing out after them. "What?! Now?! Thorin we need time to round up the herd. Does he even know what this entails?"

"He knows enough. He wants it now. I suggest you get moving." He said with a smirk ushering Bilbo away. 

She gaped at him for a moment before huffing at him with a glare as she turned around and took off.

Thorin took his time leading Bilbo to the mating corral. They wouldn't be able to do much until the herd was assembled anyway. Dis caught up to them again just as they were reaching the field where the mating corral was. 

Thorin just raised a brow at her in question. 

"I put your nephews to work. Bilbo needs a mare representative to make sure he's accommodated." She explained. "This is probably his first time. You know it's standard for young mares to have an older mare provide guidance for their first mount. Just because I didn't have one doesn't mean I'm going to leave him on his own."

Thorin nodded. Considering their size difference, Thorin would be grateful for her input. He didn't want to hurt the small pony or have the experience be a bad one. "Thank you."

She looked at him surprised, probably expecting a defiant comeback. "Of course."

When they arrived at the mating corral, Dis immediately spotted a problem. "This isn't going to work." She said sizing up Bilbo next to the corral.

"What?!" Was she telling him that he _couldn't_ mate the pony now?!

"The corral. It's not going to work." She clarified. 

Thorin looked it over, not seeing what she was seeing. "Why not?"

"Look at it, Thorin." She said pushing Bilbo up next to it. "He's too short." 

Thorin looked it over with new eyes. She was right. The top bar was supposed to be no higher than the withers of the mare, but it was nearly to his upper chest. The corral was designed to help an inexperienced mare keep her footing and not get pushed around so much if her stance was weak. 

The bar was supposed to run across the mare's lower chest and shoulders, a sturdier point that could better withstand the pressure from an eager stallion. Any higher than the waist and the pressure would be put on the upper torso. At his height, it would dig in to his stomach and bend his spine back as the rest of him went under.

No, the corral would be more dangerous than helpful. "What else can we do?"

"Well, thanks to someone," she looked at him accusingly. "We don't have time to make a new one. You will just have to do without it."

"Is that possible?" He thought the corral was going to be necessary for this. Bilbo was so small and Thorin was tall for a Khuzd and certainly no lightweight. And they were both inexperienced.

"Of course it is. You didn't plan on using the mating corral every time you mounted him, did you? You're just going have to learn faster than other couples and figure it out the first time." 

Thorin looked over the pony again. "But, he's so small."

"Then you're just going to have to be extra gentle. No losing yourself in a rut, at least, not until he has his feet under him. You'll be doing most the work really. He just needs to keep a firm stance and bear your weight."

Thorin looked at Bilbo again. It seemed like that alone might be hard for the pony. Thorin was easily twice his weight.

Dis slapped his arm when she noticed his concerned brooding. "He'll be fine. He's a sturdy little pony. It's not like he'll be carrying all your weight. He might just need a few test mounts."

Bilbo had been watching them, trying to pick up as much of the conversation as possible but hadn't been able to make out a whole lot. "What this?" He said gesturing to the corral.

"Don't worry about that. We won't be using it." She said pulling him over to a clear part of the field. She positioned Bilbo in a spot clearly visible to the edge of the camp and started to patiently coach him on his stance and what to expect, doing her best to use words he would understand.

As she was doing that, Gloin trotted over to Thorin. "Sharli said I should come give you some pointers." He fidgeted. 

Thorin just raised a brow at him. 

"But, to be honest, I don't have a clue what it will be like mounting such a little mare." Gloin confessed. 

Just then Oin walked up and pushed his brother aside. "Take of yer armor. Watch his ankle. Ease onto 'im. Aim low. Hold him steady. You'll do fine." He advised gruffly before walking away with his brother in tow.

Thorin watched them walk away in confusion. Was that all the 'coaching' he'd get? Dis wasn't kidding about having to learn fast. He started stripping off his armor. He certainly didn't need to have any extra weight on him.

By the time Dis finished her coaching with Bilbo, most of the herd had already assembled on the edge of the camp. Dis turned to join the audience, but not before sending Thorin a glare with a mouthed 'be gentle.'

Bilbo was nervously glancing at the assembled herd. Thorin took his face in his hands and made him look him in the eyes. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Bilbo swallowed nervously, glancing back at the herd before looking back to Thorin. "Y-yes." He nodded hesitantly.

_~Dis~_

Just as Dis got settled into her spot in the audience, her boys standing beside her, Dwalin walked up and took his place on her other side next to Balin. "Did I miss anythin'?"

"No, they're about to do a test mount." Dis assured.

"Why're they not usin' the corral?" He asked gruffly. 

"Bilbo's too short. It would be dangerous."

"More dangerous than a stallion like Thorin on 'is back without support?" He asked skeptically.

"Yes."

Dwalin snorted. "This is gonna be good."

They watched as Thorin gave Bilbo's rump a firm push as he walked back behind him. Bilbo swayed visibly from the shove.

Dis tutted. "His stance isn't firm enough."

"Aim low, Thorin! He's just a little pony!" Dwalin jeered over her.

Thorin sent him a vulgar hand sign and Dwalin laughed. Until Dis smacked him anyway. She didn't want him making the poor pony any more nervous. Dwalin obediently quieted down.

Thorin reared up behind him, simulating a mount. Bilbo whinnied in surprise as his stance crumbled and he floundered under Thorin's weight. Thorin immediately dismounted stepping around to comfort his distressed partner. 

A few minutes later, Thorin was stepping back around, giving Bilbo's rear a shove on the way. There was still a sway in Bilbo's stance, though it wasn't as pronounced. This time he held up for a few seconds under Thorin's weight before his stance gave out with another distressed whinny.

"I think we might be here awhile." Dwalin drawled.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin stepped back around to face his future mate. Bilbo was stuttering apologies before Thorin had even gotten to him.

"I s-sorry. I d-do better." He gushed with a furious flush.

Thorin took his face in his hands and sushed him with a gentle nuzzle. He knew Bilbo could do it but suspected his nervousness was throwing him off. So, maybe Thorin just needed to get him good and distracted.

Thorin's nuzzle turned from innocent to purposeful as he sought entry into Bilbo's mouth.

Bilbo opened up, unwilling to refuse his stallion anything at this point.

Thorin kissed him deeply, one hand around his waist tugging provocatively on Bilbo's mane while the other hand stroked the edge of one of Bilbo's sensitive ears. 

Though hesitant at first, Bilbo was soon equally wrapped around Thorin tugging him closer hungrily. 

~~~~~

"Now! Do it now!" Bilbo panted when they finally parted for air. 

Thorin pulled away, wasting no time, and was rearing to mount before he was even fully behind his mare. After a few questing thrusts, he found his mark and thrust in as deep as he could, gripping Bilbo tightly around his barrel with his forelegs.

Bilbo grunted under Thorin's weight, but his stance held firm. Thorin breathed deeply through the tight sensation of Bilbo around him, willing himself still so his partner could adjust. 

When Bilbo whimpered beneath him at the intrusion, Thorin forced himself to focus on his mare. Thorin leaned over and reached down, running his hands under Bilbo's arms and splaying them across Bilbo's chest. He would have like to be able to reach more of his mate, but their size difference prevented him from attaining anything more.

Bilbo reached up, weaving his arms around Thorin's, welcoming the contact.

Thorin massaged Bilbo's chest and nipples as he began gently rocking into him. When Bilbo was no longer showing any signs of distress, Thorin straitened up for better leverage, but kept his arms entwined with Bilbo's.

He moved on to short gentle thrusts, hanging onto his control by a mere thread. Bilbo was soon panting beneath him. When Bilbo leaned his head back against Thorin's stomach and moaned Thorin's name with eyes heavy lidded in pleasure, the thread snapped.

Thorin's hips snapped forward in a hard thrust, startling an aroused whinny from his mate. Thorin gripped Bilbo's barrel to steady him as he gave in to his need to thrust hard and deep. He vaguely registered his nephews cheering him on, but his entire world had narrowed down to one focus: breeding his mare.

Despite Bilbo's firm stance and Thorin's grip on him, the first couple thrusts knocked Bilbo foward a few inches. Bilbo dug in his hooves, moaning as he took the full brunt of his mates thrusts.

When Thorin knew he was close, he released one of Bilbo's arms so he could stroke and pinch at Bilbo's ear. Bilbo jolted under him as he reached his peak with a loud whinny. After a couple more thrusts Thorin found his own release. He pushed in deep with a possessive roar, claiming Bilbo as his.

Bilbo leaned back into Thorin panting as Thorin gripped Bilbo's barrel tightly, not willing to dismount until his seed was fully planted. Bilbo grunted when Thorin's weight on him increased as the stallion's muscles started to relax. 

Thorin stroked Bilbo's cheek, encouraging him to hold on for just a little while longer. Finally, he backed up and slipped out as he dismounted, sated and content. Bilbo was his and no one could dispute it now.

Once Bilbo knew Thorin was clear, he bucked and kicked a little to work out the stiffness in his muscles and joints from bearing his stallion's weight. Satisfied, he sought out his new mate for cuddles. 

~~~~~

Thorin welcomed his pony into his arms, more than happy to provide some after-mount cuddles. By now, most of the herd members had already gone back to their business, but his family had remained to offer their congratulations. 

Dis and his nephews walked up, followed by Sharli and their cousins. "Congratulations, Thorin. Bilbo." Dis offered with a smirk. Oin just barged in to check the pony's ankle and look him over. When he was satisfied, he grunted a congratulations before heading back to the camp.

Dwalin gave Thorin an approving smack on his upper back, jolting the lovers and illiciting a glare from Bilbo before he burrowed even deeper into Thorin's arms. Dwalin just laughed.

Gloin and Balin offered more respectful congratulations and Sharli gushed one at Bilbo.

"Wow, Uncle! You must be really good! I've never seen Bilbo so happy!" Kili Blurted.

"Though I'd say Bilbo was more impressive. I'm still not even sure how he withstood all _that_." Fili added. 

"True! And without a corral even!" Kili continued. 

"Bilbo is a fast learner." Dis said stroking the pony's back. "And it's good that he's happy. Every mare should be happy and healthy."

"Of course! Happy healthy mares make happy healthy foals~." Sharli sang. She and Dis started walking back towards the camp. "I do believe we might be seeing a new foal next summer." She conspired with Dis.

"I sure hope so! I already can't wait to see the tiny thing!" Dis gushed back.

Thorin was far too satisfied and preoccupied to pay too much attention to any of them, but when Balin walked up and informed him that he would arrange for Thorin to have the rest of today and tomorrow off from his duties to spend with his new mate, it got his attention. "What? But the preparations . . "

"Will continue without you. The incoming stallions can wait. Your advisors will oversee the preparations in your stead. Rightly, you should have at least two full days off, but I’m afraid this is all we can give you.” Balin informed him. 

Thorin nodded. “Thank you. I wasn't expecting to be able to take any time off.” 

Balin nodded in recognition and he and his brother headed back to camp to give the newly-mates some privacy.

Bilbo stepped away, grabbing Thorin’s hand and pulling him along. When Bilbo found a patch of grass he liked, he pulled Thorin down to sit with him. Thorin followed willingly and they resumed their intimate cuddles in privacy.

Thorin only had one and a half days to spend doing nothing but lavishing his new mate with affection. He wasn’t going to waste any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it strange that my very first smut scene was of centaurs . . in public?  
> . . . I feel weird now. >_>


	9. Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to let my readers know that there will be no chapters posted for the month of July. We are getting ready to make a really big move (from west coast almost to east coast), so I am going to be really busy getting ready, not to mention the week it is gonna take us to get there.
> 
> I am NOT dropping my stories. I just don't need the added pressure of getting chapters done and posted on time while all this is going on. So, I'm just going to take the month of July off from weekly posts. Our plan is to be moved and resettled by the end of July, so, if everything goes according to plan, weekly chapter posts will continue in August. 
> 
> I will still be writing during whatever spare time I get and I will still be active on the site as much as I can, so feel free to ask questions. I’m sorry for making you all wait (I know. I hate waiting too.) but I hope you’ll be patient with me. 
> 
> If anything changes, I’ll let you know as soon as I can. The chapters for this week will be or have been posted.
> 
> I also just want to say I really appreciate all my readers. Your support and comments always help to encourage and inspire me as I write. I always consider your requests for my stories and try to fit them in the best I can. I hate making you wait and really hope I’ll be able to continue posting for you by the start of August.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support and patience! I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my stories! <3 <3 :D
> 
>  
> 
> Gloin's profile has been posted.
> 
> Skip to the next ~~~~~ if you don't want to read the smut.

They sat in the field cuddling and just enjoying each other’s company until dinner time. Thorin had watched in amazement as Bilbo fished out a apple or some other piece of fruit to eat, at least, every hour. Dis had not been exaggerating.

They finally headed back to Thorin’s tent for dinner, though now it was _their_ tent and wasn't that exciting! Dinner had already been set out for them. Fili and Kili had even set out a bowl of Bilbo’s favorite berries. 

Once they finished eating, they fell into another cuddling session which quickly grew heated. It wasn’t long before Bilbo was squirming and panting out broken requests to his stallion in the midst of passionate kisses.

“Back room! Now!” Thorin ordered between kisses.

~~~~~

Bilbo shot up and hurried towards Thorin’s private room in the back of the tent with Thorin right behind him. They were barely through the door flaps before Thorin was rearing to mount his mare.

Bilbo skidded to a stop as all his joints stiffened in preparation for his stallion's weight. It only took Thorin a couple thrusts before he found his mark this time and only held off his rut long enough to make sure Bilbo wasn’t in any distress. 

Bilbo reached up and sought out Thorin’s arms which Thorin clasped with his before riding his pony hard. Bilbo dug in his hooves as deep as he could, eager to take all the force of his stallion’s thrusts. 

Soon, Bilbo was panting and moaning under him. When Thorin felt a tremble run through his mate, he knew he was close. He released Bilbo’s arms so he could tug on Bilbo’s mane with one hand while the other gently pinched at his ear.

Bilbo came apart under him as he climaxed hard with a whinny that was borderline squeal. Thorin rode him through it until he reached his own peak with a roar, shooting his seed deep into his mate.

~~~~~

Several minutes later they were both stretched out on Thorin’s sleeping pallet, sated and still panting. Bilbo was nearly flat on his side with his legs stretched out and his upper torso leaning back into Thorin’s welcoming arms. Thorin draped a foreleg over Bilbo’s barrel possessively while he held Bilbo close. 

They rested against the angled sleeping pallet designed for their upper torsos, cuddling in post-coital bliss. The whole camp probably heard what they were up to. Not that Thorin minded. The more they heard the better. There should be no doubt in anyone’s mind that Bilbo was his.

They drifted off to sleep, relaxed and content in each other’s arms. When Thorin woke up the next morning, they were in much the same position. Bilbo had tucked his legs under him at some point but was still safely nestled protectively in Thorin’s arms.

Thorin gently nuzzled his mate’s hair, trying not to wake him up. Normally, he would be getting up to join Dwalin on his rounds, but today was all for Bilbo. He lay there quietly, just enjoying the feel of his mate in his arms and letting himself drift in and out of light dozes. 

He was lightly dozing when a loud gurgle vibrated under his foreleg, jolting him awake. He was still a bit disoriented and looked around trying to locate the sound. He finally pinpointed the source when Bilbo started squirming in discomfort as another loud gurgle sounded from his stomach. 

Thorin huffed a chuckle as he tightened his arms around his mate and nuzzled into his hair affectionately. He nickered a ‘good morning’ as Bilbo started to stir. Bilbo nickered sleepily back, rolling into Thorin to stretch his legs.

Thorin sat up just enough so he could lean over and kiss his mate good morning which Bilbo eagerly returned. They were well on their way to another heated make-out session when Bilbo’s stomach gurgled loudly and interrupted them.

“Sorry.” Bilbo apologized sheepishly when they pulled apart. 

Thorin just chuckled, reaching down to rub his mates gurgling belly. “We best feed you or it’ll give us no peace.” He said placing another kiss to Bilbo’s forehead. He gave Bilbo a gentle push, helping him roll back over so he could get to his feet. 

Bilbo ambled out to the main room sleepily with Thorin close behind him. He had left his fruit sack by the table last night. As they sat down at the table, Bilbo pulled out some fruit from his sack while Thorin pulled out some of his personal stash of dried meat for breakfast. 

Thorin watched Bilbo as they ate, his concerns rising to the surface again. They still hadn’t found a consistent food source for the pony and Bilbo still hadn’t put on much weight. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough reserves to see through the winter. Despite his constant season, Thorin doubted a pregnancy would make it to full term even if he did conceive.

They needed to figure something out and soon. Thorin didn’t want to risk a miscarriage and he wouldn’t allow his mate to be lost to the winter. Fortunately, they would be traveling to visit the human city of Dale in only a few days. Maybe they could find something to trade for that would help sustain the pony.

If that didn’t work out, they would be passing by the Woodlanders’ territory shortly after starting their migration. As much as he disliked doing any kind of business with them, he was sure they would have a solution to Bilbo’s food problem. They might even know more about his kind and needs. It was certainly worth suffering the Woodland King’s arrogance for.

Bilbo was finally awake by the time they finished eating. He leaned into Thorin for an affectionate nuzzle and cuddle, but stood up, pulling Thorin with him, before it could get heated. “Bath?” He partly requested and partly demanded. 

Thorin chuckled and obediently followed him out as they headed down to the river. Bilbo ushered Thorin into the water and happily began grooming him. After scrubbing him down, he washed and rebraided Thorin’s mane, like Dis had taught him. 

Thorin kept his urges under tight control through the washing. He had every intention of mounting his little mare this morning, but was holding off in anticipation of another new privilege he had gained since their mating.

Normally, the mares would help wash each other as it was considered improper for a stallion to aid in the washing of a mare that wasn’t his. A mated stallion, however, had the special privilege of being allowed to wash his own mare.

Though stallions weren’t as fond of grooming as mares were, grooming one’s own mare was often regarded as (or simply devolved into) an erotic foreplay building up to a mount. Thorin was going to reduce his mate into a needy mess before he mounted him this morning.

Just as Bilbo was finishing up Thorin’s hair and braids, Dis and Sharli arrived at the river with their respective families. “Good morning, you two. I suspect you slept well.” Dis said with a knowing smirk, her colts snickering behind her. 

“Exceedingly.” Thorin made no attempt to deny their activities. 

As Dis and Sharli were ushering their families into the water for a grooming, Thorin grabbed a brush to groom his mate. But when he reached for Bilbo to begin, the pony nickered in surprise and side-stepped away. 

Thorin raised a brow at the reaction.

Bilbo immediately looked remorseful and somewhat fearful but still didn’t return to within Thorin’s reach. “S-stallions not g-groom.” He said shaking his head.

Thorin nodded, understanding this was another cultural difference. “Do stallions of your kind not groom their mares?” He asked for confirmation.

Bilbo shook his head. “Mares’ work.” 

By now, Dis had noticed the exchange and stood by in case she was needed. 

“For our kind,” Thorin began slowly approaching his mate and reaching for him with his free hand. “Grooming his mare is a stallion’s special privilege.” Thorin rumbled seductively, trying to disarm the pony’s resistance, as he stroked his back.

Bilbo fidgeted nervously but didn’t move away. “But, you Lead. Not work for you.” He responded uncertainly.

Thorin nuzzled into pony’s ear. “Not work.” He rumbled lowly as he wrapped himself around his mare and started gently washing him.

Bilbo looked to Dis for confirmation that it was acceptable. He was always concerned about doing or allowing something that would damage his standing with his new herd. When she just nodded at him, he finally allowed himself to relax and allowed Thorin to wash him.

Thorin started with the least arousing areas, the lower chest, barrel and legs, while Bilbo worked on his upper torso. But before moving on to Bilbo’s rear region, he moved up to wash Bilbo’s mane. Bilbo had already washed his hair, but it was difficult to wash one’s own mane.

Thorin admired his mates mane as he gently washed and untangled it. It had grown some since Dis had had to cut it, but it was still just as curly. He started with innocent strokes, but, as he neared finishing, he started adding a tug here and a gentle pull there.

~~~~~

Bilbo was trying not to react, unsure of how this was supposed to play out, but was obviously distracted by his mate’s added attentions. 

Thorin moved onto Bilbo’s rump, croup, and back thighs next. Using slow provocative strokes, he rubbed him down with both the brush and his bare hand. Every once in a while, he would give the pony a firm squeeze or gentle pinch. 

Thorin smirked as Bilbo tried to control his reactions but couldn’t help the growing tremble in his thighs or the excited swish of his tail. Thorin caught and washed Bilbo’s short tail, still adding a pinch to his rump or thighs now and then. When Thorin decided to move on, Bilbo was fidgeting, losing the battle to stay still.

Thorin leaned over and reached under his pony to wash the sheath and under region next. He gently scrubbed Bilbo’s under region, taking his time fondling and massaging his smaller sacks. 

Bilbo was nearly bouncing under him and nickering lowly in arousal. By the time Thorin reach for his mate’s sheath, Bilbo was fully extended and already stiffening. Bilbo whinnied in surprised arousal and almost bucked when Thorin wrapped his hand around his mate’s length. 

Thorin felt Bilbo widen his stance and go rigid under him as he ‘washed’ the pony’s, now fully erect, length. Soon, Bilbo was bent over nearly double from Thorin’s ministrations, panting and supporting his upper torso by leaning on his legs. His ears were starting to droop in distressed arousal. His stance was almost painfully stiff and his tail was high in the air.

If Thorin wasn’t already aroused, the sight of his mate, nearly doubled over in need, would certainly have pushed him over the edge. When Bilbo pleadingly moaned his name, Thorin released Bilbo’s length, unable to continue with just foreplay. 

He was throbbing painfully in as much need as Bilbo. He mounted the pony, quickly finding his mark. Bilbo whinnied beneath him as Thorin penetrated. Thorin didn’t even pause before mercilessly driving into his mate with every thrust. He leaned low over his mate grabbing his waist, unable to reach anything more in Bilbo’s doubled over position.

Bilbo’s hooves dug into the river bed as he stubbornly refused to be moved despite the near frantic pounding Thorin was giving him. He moaned loudly, mumbling in his own delicate tongue, frequently interrupted by aroused whinnies, either unashamed or too lost in his need to care. 

It didn’t take long for either of them to find their release as they climaxed together. Bilbo nearly squealed from the force of it and Thorin bellowed possessively over him. A resounded whinny could be heard from further up stream. 

~~~~~

When Thorin finally dismounted, Bilbo stumbled over to the bank where he collapsed, rolled and sprawled out on his side, stretching and panting. Thorin laughed breathlessly as he sat down beside his mate to catch his own breath. 

Upstream, another set of roar and whinny sounded off as Gloin and Sharli found their completions. 

Kili and Fili ambled over, having been released by their mother. “Wow! Uncle, that was . . impressive!” Fili complimented in awe. 

“When I get to mate, I definitely want you to coach me.” Kili insisted obviously believing Thorin held all the secrets to an amazing mount.

Thorin just huffed a chuckle as he leaned down to give his mate an affectionate kiss.

Dis walked over, having finished her own quick wash (since all the other mares were otherwise occupied). “Newly-mates.” She said shaking her head. “Always have to show off.”

“You didn’t have to watch.” Thorin said unrepentantly. 

She tutted at him. “The humans in Dale probably heard that ruckus, not to mention the whole camp.” “Almost makes me want to re-mate.” She sighed.

Thorin raised a brow at her. She had made it clear when Vili died that she would never relate unless she fell madly in love.

“I said ‘almost.’” She said with a smirk. “Come on, you two.” She said ushering her colts back towards camp. “Let’s leave them so they can enjoy their day in peace. There will be plenty off time to harass them starting tomorrow.” She said with a mischievous wink.

Thorin shook his head but was too content to be overly concerned. He continued to shower his mate with affectionate kisses and caresses until Bilbo’s muscles stopped aching. When Bilbo finally rolled back over, Thorin helped him up.

“What would you like to do today?” Thorin asked as Bilbo stretched out the last of the stiffness. 

Bilbo grabbed his fruit bag laying nearby before grabbing Thorin’s hand and started leading him away. “Field?”

Thorin nodded and followed willingly. When Bilbo found a nice flowery patch he liked he pulled Thorin down with him and settled into his side. Thorin leaned into the pony and wrapped his arms around him. Bilbo nickered sweetly at him but didn’t seem overly interested in cuddling as he started carefully picking at the flowers around him. 

Thorin let him be, content to be wrapped around his mate. When Bilbo had a good sized pile of flowers in front of him he started carefully weaving them together. Thorin rested against him, watching curiously. 

Thorin wasn’t familiar with the names of flowers, but Bilbo had selected mostly blue, purple and white flowers. He watched in fascination as Bilbo expertly weaved them into a colorful circlet. The pony picked flowers choosily, every piece needing to be perfect.

Thorin wasn’t sure how long it had taken, but finally the pony was holding up his master piece, eyeing it critically for any imperfections. Thorin joined him in the examination, though he wondered what it could be for. Maybe it was a cultural thing. 

He was distracted from his wondering when Bilbo turned to him shyly. “For you.” He held it out.

Thorin took it carefully, not sure what he was supposed to do with it. “What is it?”

“Is . .” Bilbo tried to explain but didn’t know the right words. Finally he just gestured with his hands as if he was putting it on his head. 

Thorin raised a brow in thought as he considered the flowery piece again. “It’s a crown.” He concluded rather than asked.

Bilbo tilted his head at the unfamiliar word.

“What does it mean?” Thorin asked wanting to know it’s significance. Bilbo had made it to painstaking perfection. It must be important to him.

Bilbo looked down and started fiddling with a left over flower. “Mare make for stallion they want. I want you.” He explained quietly.

Thorin leaned in and nuzzled him gently. “We are already mated. I am yours.” He reassured, not sure if Bilbo knew the full significance their mating.

“I know.” Bilbo twiddled a flower stem. “Not . . okay me make . . at home. I not choose there. You call me mare here. I choose you. I make for you.” He did his best to explain using words he knew. 

Thorin took a moment to process his mates efforts to communicate. He looked at the crown in his hands as he thought. “You’re not allowed to make them among your people because you’re not allowed to choose your mate? Or because you’re not considered a mare?” Thorin asked to confirm his interpretations. 

Bilbo shrugged. “Can make, not give.”

Thorin had to stomp down a wave of fury that ran through him on his mate’s behalf. They had better never try to come for Bilbo, because Thorin would not let them off easy. Yet, at the same time, he couldn’t be too angry. Without the absurd practices of his people, Bilbo would have never made it to Thorin’s arms.

Thorin nuzzled him again. “Thank you. I am honored to be your chosen. Would you put it on for me?” He asked carefully handing it back.

Bilbo looked at him in surprise before gently taking the crown from Thorin’s hands and setting it softly upon his head. Bilbo’s smile grew into a beaming grin as he gazed at Thorin wearing the crown he had made for him. He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and nuzzled and kissed him passionately.

Thorin had never seen Bilbo so joyous. He secretly confessed that he’d wear flowers every day if it made Bilbo this happy. They kissed and cuddled for a while until Bilbo’s stomach loudly announced that it was time for lunch.

Thorin helped Bilbo up and they headed back to camp for lunch. As they entered the camp, the happen to come across Dwalin on one of his rounds. He glanced at them as he passed giving Thorin a respectful nod. 

Suddenly he jolted to a stop and spun around gaping at Thorin. “What is that?!” 

Thorin straitened up proudly, seeing no reason to be embarrassed by the symbol of Bilbo’s desire for him as a mate. “It’s a gift.” He explained simply. He knew the significance wouldn’t matter to Dwalin. They were still just flowers.

“And yer goin’ ta wear it?” He asked incredulously. “All through camp?” His face was twisted in a strange combination of horror, disbelief, and amusement.

“Yes.” Thorin said as he nuzzled noses with the happy pony at his side.

“Mahal!!” Dwalin swore. “I though ye had it bad before you was mated! You gonna let him braid your tail next?!” He jeered, though amusement was quickly winning dominance on his face.

“Shut up, Dwalin.” Thorin huffed. He was pretty sure Bilbo would never do that . . At least, not if he knew the significance of it. . . Maybe he should explain that little cultural tidbit, just in case. 

Dwalin guffawed loudly, deducing that Thorin probably would if Bilbo really wanted to. Thorin ignored him and ushered Bilbo on. 

Thorin valiantly ignored the looks and stares that his new head apparrel earned him as they passed through the camp on their way to their tent. Before hey could make, though, they ran into Dis and Sharli. 

Both mares stopped and stared when they saw him. “Thorin, you have . . flowers . . on your head.” Dis state the obvious with her brows nearly to her hairline.

Thorin sighed. “Yes, it’s a flower crown. Mares in Bilbo’s culture give them to the stallions they wish to mate.” He explained, hoping the mares would latch on to the sentiment rather than the fact that Bilbo had gotten him to wear flowers.

“But you’re already mated. Doesn’t he know that?” Sharli asked confused.

“He does. He wasn’t allowed to give them in his culture. It symbolizes his desire for a stallion.” Thorin explained, puffing up a bit at the end.

“Aww! That’s so sweet! I’m so glad you got the stallion you wanted!” Sharli gushed as she grabbed Bilbo for a cuddly hug. Dis now only had one eyebrow up and she stared at Thorin with a smirk. “And you’re wearing it around camp, I see.” 

Thorin crosses his arms, daring her to insult such a gift. 

“It seems you chose well, Bilbo.” She said as Sharli released him. “Well met, Thorin.” She praised as she and Sharli continued on their way.

He stared after them in confusion. He was expecting some kind of witty comment like with Dwalin.

Bilbo gave him a tug as his belly growled again and they finally made it back to their tent without anymore interruptions. After lunch, Thorin suited up in his armor and weapons. He hadn’t been wearing them today, but Bilbo wanted to go for a walk away from the camp and Thorin wouldn’t risk his mare by being unprepared for any threats.

As they were heading out of camp for their walk, they came across Bofur. “Oh~ Fancy new headdress you got there. The little one make it for ya?” He asked knowingly as they approached.

“Yes, are you familiar with the custom.” Thorin asked hoping to find out a little more about it.

Bofur shook his head. “Don’t know about any customs, just know they like their flowers. Boy, do they like their flowers. Mares, stallions, foals: they all like to wear ‘em. Tie ‘em up in their hair and manes. ‘If there’s flowers on the ground, there’s flowers in their hair,’ as the saying goes.” 

They said goodbye to Bofur as they continued to head out. At least Bofur didn’t give him any strife for wearing the flowers. 

They didn’t even make it through the field to the woods before they were interrupted again. This time by Thorin’s nephews. 

“Hey, Bilbo! We got you some more fruit! We’ll leave it in your tent for you.” Kili announces as he came running up and let Bilbo look into the sack. 

Fili was staring at his uncle. “Uncle, you got a . . little something . . .” He tried to discreetly clue Thorin in as he pointed to his head.

This got Kili’s attention. “Uh, more like a lot of something.”

“Right here.” Fili continued to gesture to his head.

“And here.” Kili contributed pointing to the other side of his head.

Thorin raised an unimpressed brow at them.

Fili leaned to the side. “Mahal! I think it goes all the way around!”

“Uncle, how’d you get the whole field stuck on your head?” Kili asked in disbelief.

Thorin rolled his eyes at them as he ushered Bilbo on, choosing to ignore their nonsense. They left the colts wondering and whispering theories amongst themselves. 

Finally, they made it to the edge of the woods and enjoyed a nice and quiet walk, hand-in-hand, in privacy. It was late, by the time they made it back to camp. They ate a late dinner before turning in for the night. Thorin carefully removed his flower crown and set it aside, before stripping off his armor.

They settled onto their sleep pallet and Thorin pulled Bilbo close as they drifted off. Tomorrow, Thorin would have to return to his duties. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower crown scenes inspired by glowingcloud27. I hope you enjoyed them. ;)
> 
> . . . Yes, okay, more horse smut, but it’s not my fault. My characters always tend to just do whatever they want. I just try to keep up with them. I’m the victim here! T_T


	10. Goats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have good news and bad news. 
> 
> Bad news first. Things have not gone as planned. We are just now getting ready to move and will be leaving on the 30th. We thought we had a house at the beginning of the month, but it fell through and we had to start over. So, I will be taking the month of August off as well so we can get moved and settled. I know! I am so sorry!
> 
> The good news is I am posting the next chapter for each of my current works AND a BONUS first chapter of a new future work I plan to write. It is the whole first chapter, not just a summary. I will add the summary for it below. You will find it in “Future Works.” It is chapter 4 and is titled “Bride of the Demon King.” My ideas seem to be coming to me in the form of whole first chapters lately, so I have to write them so I don’t forget. Anyway, if you’re interested, check it out and let me know what you think. 
> 
>  P.S. I am also working on writing out the first chapters for the other works in "Future Works" that are just summaries.
> 
> P.S.S. Gimli's profile has been posted.  
>  
> 
> {Bride of the Demon King -- Bilbo/Thorin}  
> Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.

It had been several days since Thorin and Bilbo had mated. Bilbo was slowly exploring his new found freedom since the stallions of the herd were now giving him a wide berth, but was still spending most of his time with the other mares.

Such was normal. Mares often tended to congregate to each other. Though Thorin had been seeing Bofur around more often whenever he went to check on Bilbo throughout the day. 

He didn’t really think that Bofur would try anything dishonorable, but it was still his posseessive nature to send the scruffy stallion a warning glare when he saw him around his mate. Of course, Bofur would just grin amiably and back off in surrender.

Knowing that he would return to his little mate every evening and waking up next to him every morning certainly eased the burden of Thorin’s work and he tried to see Bilbo as often as possible throughout the day.

He finished his work for the day as early as possible to free his evenings and had recently fully delegated the morning guard rounds to Dwalin, giving him the option of recruiting any other available stallion as back up if he so desired. So he at least got to spend his mornings and evenings with his mate.

The work was also starting to wind down. Most of the migration preparations were done and stallions were only trickling in here and there now, though today was busy. Today, Thorin and a select group would be traveling to the human city of Dale with their goods to trade.

Thorin didn’t particularly care for doing business with the humans, but it was a necessary evil. The humans had more food resources and the centaurs were superior blacksmiths. Thorin’s people would make all kinds of labor tools, from shovels to rakes, as well as a variety of other household goods, and the humans would offer mostly grains and domesticated meat like pork and chicken.

The stallions of the herd were currently loading up their waggons with all their assorted trade goods. Fortunately, Dale was a larger city and they would be able to sell a good portion of their goods there. The rest they would keep with them as they migrated to offer to any other human settlements they came across.

They also had gold to use for trading, but the gold mining had been slow lately due to the shortage of stallions to work the mines. What they had already mined was slowly dwindling away, so Thorin used it as a last resort.

Once the wagons were loaded, those who were going all gathered around. Bilbo sought out his mate, still feeling apprehensive about the whole thing. Thorin suspected he’d be practically glued to his side the whole time. Thorin welcomed him with a nicker and nuzzle and shortly they were heading in the direction of the city. 

They kept a steady pace and, within a couple of hours, they were approaching the city. They stopped just outside the city limits and started setting out their goods for easier access.

Before they had finished, Bard rode up on his Domestic followed by a wagon and several workers. “Lead Stallion Thorin.” He greeted respectfully as he climbed down.

“King Bard.” Thorin returned as he stepped forward to deal with the human. Bilbo stayed right by his side, eying the human suspiciously.

“Here’s the list of the goods we need.” Bard got straight to business, handing over the list.

Thorin took it and looked it over before handing it to Balin to tally up a trade price. Balin would name an opening price and Bard and Thorin would haggle over it. They had long decided that Bard would be responsible for the trade between Thorin’s herd and the city of Dale.

The people of Dale would bring their needs to Bard and he would bring a combined list out to trade with the centaurs in bulk. The people would then have to buy the goods from The city rather then from the centaurs. Bard had proposed this method of trade in order to reduce the conflict between their two groups. It had worked well, so far.

“I see you still have the pony with you.” Bard commented conversational as they waited on Balin. 

“Bilbo is officially part of our herd. He will be staying with us.” Thorin answered less conversationally. 

“Oh, I would think that he would prefer to return to his own kind.”

“He has expressed no such desire, nor will he be doing any such thing.”

“Oh? It almost sounds like you’re keeping him here.” Bard commented searchingly. Humans weren’t allowed to hold a centaur against its will, but could other centaurs?

“I guess I am. He is my mate. Of his own choosing, of course.”

“Your _mate_? _Your_ mate?” Bard asked surprised. Bilbo pushed deeper into Thorin’s side to hide as Bard sized him up next to Thorin. “That must be . . difficult. Isn’t he a bit . . small to be taking your weight?” 

Thorin raised a brow at him. Was the human really asking about their mounting capabilities? “He manages quite well.”

It was Bard’s turn to raise a brow. “He must be quite sturdy for his size.” He commented sizing the pony up again.

Thorin didn’t like the calculating look in his eyes and stepped in front of his mate to shield him from the gaze. 

“Well, I guess a congratulations is in order, though it is a bit of a shame. He would have made interesting breeding stock. I’d be more than happy to take him in if he ever changes his mind.” 

Thorin stomped down on the fury that wanted to rise to the surface. “ _We_ mate for life.” Thorin answered darkly. Bard was better than most, but he still had the tendency to treat centaurs as little more than animals.

“Ah, of course. My mistake, I must have forgot.” 

When Balin returned, Thorin and Bard haggled until they came to an agreed exchange of goods. Bard made a list and handed it off to one of his workers who headed back into the city to prepare the goods while the stallions of Thorin’s herd started loading the agreed goods into the human’s wagon.

“Thorin.” Dis approached the two leaders. “Perhaps we should find out what it is that Bilbo wants now that the trade agreement has been finished.” She reminded.

“Of course. And what has the little pony decided he wants?” Bard asked, though it seemed like he had hoped they had forgotten about it.

“We don’t know. He doesn’t know the word for it in Westron and we don’t seem to have what he wants in our camp. We hoped you would have it and he could point it out.” Thorin revealed.

“Well, that makes things difficult. I can’t very well parade a bunch of random items in front of him. I at least need an idea of what we’re looking for.” 

“Bilbo. Is it food?” Dis asked hoping to narrow it down.

Bilbo looked conflicted. “Yes, no?” 

“Is it a plant or fruit?” Thorin guesses.

“No.”

“What does it look like?” Bard asked, mildly impressed at the pony’s language advancement.

“Umm.” Bilbo lifted a finger to either side of his head and lifted his tail. “Ba’a’a’a” He imitated.

Thorin and Dis stared at him like he had lost his mind.

“A goat? Or a sheep?” Bard guessed. Bilbo just tilted his head at the word.

“Goat?! What on middle earth would he want a goat for? He doesn’t even eat meat!” Dis asked thoroughly baffled. Thorin didn’t understand it either.

Bard shook his head and called one of his men over. The man rode back into town and returned several minutes later with a goat and a sheep in tow.

“Ah!” Bilbo pointed at them as he tugged on Thorin’s sleeve. 

“You want a goat or a sheep?” Throin asked baffled.

The man brought the animals over to them and Bilbo went over and pet the goat, seemingly forgetting his fear in his excitement. “What this?”

“That’s a goat.” Bard replied since Thorin and Dis were too flabbergasted to.

“Goat.” Bilbo tried the word. “Want goat. One stallion, four mares with foals.” He listed not knowing the gender names for goats. 

Bard raised a brow at him. “You want a buck and four doe’s with kids?”

Bilbo looked confused by the new words and looked to Thorin and Dis for help. 

They shook of their bafflement to respond. “One male and four females with their young, I believe is what he wants.” Dis confirmed.

“Are you sure, Bilbo?” Thorin asked him concerned. “You can’t eat goat.”

“Yes.” Bilbo nodded confidently. “Goat. I want goat.”

Thorin was hesitant, but it was Bilbo’s choice. “Very well. You have heard his demand. I expect you to prepare a compensation fit for the mate of a Tribal Lead Stallion.” Thorin directed at Bard with a significant look.

“What?! He wasn’t your mate when the offense took place!” Bard contradicted.

“It matters not, he is my mate now and I had already made a claim on him when you forced me to bring him out for you.” Thorin rebutted. “You have heard his minimum requirements, I will let you decide what would be most appropriate.” 

Bard gave Thorin a mild glare. “The city only has two goat keepers. It may take a little while to prepare them. I can bring them to you tomorrow.”

Thorin nodded in approval. After that, things were quickly wrapped up and the centaurs were soon heading back to camp. The next few days would be spent butchering the pigs and drying the pork to bolster their supplies. 

The pigs had to be butchered immediately since the centaurs didn’t have the means to feed them. Fortunately, there was an abundance of pigs this year so they were able to acquire more pigs than grain. 

What grain they did get would also need to be ground and baked since they wouldn’t have their ovens once they started the migration. When they returned to camp, the herd immediately got busy. 

Later in the afternoon of the next day, Thorin was alerted that the humans were approaching their camp. Bilbo met up with him as he and his advisors headed out to meet them. 

Bilbo was clearly excited. He had a little bounce in his step that Thorin couldn’t help but think was adorable. Thorin pulled his mate close for a quick nuzzle before releasing him as they approached the humans.

By the time they got to Bard, Thorin’s brows were near his hairline. Bard seemed to have brought Bilbo a whole herd of goats. Even Thorin hadn’t been expecting this extravagent of a gift. There must have been almost two dozen goats here. “This is . . very generous.” He complimented.

“Yes, well, it turns out that one of our goat keepers wanted to get out of the business. So, I bought them out and figured I’d just sell whatever your pony doesn’t want to the other goat keeper when I get back.” Bard revealed. 

Thorin turned to Bilbo. “Which one’s would you like? You can have as many as you like.” Although he wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to take care of them.

Bilbo gaped at him in disbelief. “All! I want all!” He exclaimed when he recovered.

“All of them? What are you going to do with them?” Dis asked skeptically.

“Please, Thorin. I want all.” Bilbo clung to his stallion and pleaded sweetly when Thorin didn’t respond right away.

If Thorin had planned to resist Bilbo’s request, he would have thoroughly lost before he even got started. But this was Bilbo’s gift and Thorin had no intention of interfering. “Of course. If you want them, they’re yours.” He reassured. 

Bilbo beamed before turning to Bard for confirmation. 

Bard just nodded and waved his hand over the flock. As far as he was concerned, he was getting off easy with this. Goats were really only good for milk, but they weren’t all that profitable to keep.

Bilbo trotted forward to take the ropes holding his new treasures. There were two bucks, seven does with young and another five does without. Bilbo immediately started guiding his new flock over to an empty section of the field.

“Well, this settles my debt. If there is nothing else, I will let you get back to your preparations. May you have a good migration. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again come next spring.” Bard farewelled as he climbed up onto his Domestic.

“Your debt is cleared. We leave in peace until next spring.” Thorin nodded in a pretty good mood considering how happy his mate was.

With that, Bard and his group left and Thorin trailed after the way that Bilbo had gone. By the time he had caught up with Bilbo, a good portion of the herd had gathered around curiously to investigate the strange new additions.

Bilbo was removing the ropes from all the goats, who seemed perfectly content to stick around and graze where they were.

“Bilbo. What are you going to do with them all? We’ll be migrating soon.” Thorin asked, wondering at the pony’s intentions.

“They come. Eat grass. Move is good.” Bilbo tried to explain.

“Yes, but what are you going to do with them? What’s their purpose?” Dis picked up after Thorin.

Just then, little Gimli ran up bringing Bilbo a metal bowl.

“Thank you, Gimli.” Bilbo took the bowl and set it under one of the mother goats as Gimli settled down beside him on the grass. Bilbo quickly milked the goat until the bowl was full while the herd watched on curiously.

When he was done, Bilbo took the bowl and raised it to his lips, gulping down half the bowl in no time. He finished with a sigh of satisfaction. “Is good.” He held the rest out for Gimli, who eyed it warily and took a small sip before downing the rest of the bowl. 

“Wow! That is good! An’ I feel like I just ate some meat!” The foal marveled.

Bilbo laughed as he took the bowl back and filled it up again. “Is like meat, but drink. Goat too many, eat meat too.” 

Thorin marveled at the pony. Bilbo _had_ found a consistent food source, not just for him, but for the whole herd. There was no way he would be able to drink all that milk and unneeded goats could be butchered for meat. 

Bilbo had used his personal compensation not just for his own benefit, but for the sake of the entire heard. A constant supply of milk would significantly boulster their food supplies. 

Bilbo stood up with another bowl of milk and held it out to Thorin. “Try?” Thorin grabbed the bowl but bypassed it in favor of tasting Bilbo’s lips instead. 

“Not me, this.” Bilbo giggled, still not knowing the word for milk.

Thorin took the bowl and tasted it. It was different, but not bad. It would probably go well with meat. “It’s good.” He said licking his lips. “But I still like you better.” He said leaning back down to steal a kiss from his amazing mate. 

Dis snatched the bowl away before he could get too distracted so she could try it herself. “This is good.” She said surprised, ignoring her brother getting touchy with his mate right next to her. “This will enhance our resources nicely. I’m sure it won’t keep. We’ll have to finish everything shortly after it’s milked.” She looked to the pony for confirmation, but he was far to preoccupied trying to climb his stallion.

She huffed at them and turned to Balin instead who chuckled. “I’d imagine you’re right. We have no way to preserve it, but, if we can harvest it daily, there’s really no reason to save it.”

“Bilbo seems to think they will do well traveling with us. What do you think?” She asked, passing the bowl on to a nearby curious onlooker. 

“Goats are grazers.” Balin stroked his beard in thought. “That’s why the humans don’t keep many. They use all their land for growing things. If we learn to care for them properly, I see no reason why they shouldn’t thrive with our lifestyle.”

Dis nodded, ignoring Bilbo’s whinny nearby as Thorin mounted him. “He purposely chose something that would benefit the whole herd. Even though he is in the most danger for the coming winter.” Dis reflected. 

“Indeed. He is as generous as he is intelligent.” Balin agreed with a nod. “Perhaps we will all see the coming winter better off this year.”

Just then, Fili and Kili came running up. “What?! Did we miss the delivery?!” Kili complained.

“That’s a lot of goats.” Fili commented.

“What’s got Uncle so worked up? He’s goin’ after Bilbo like they’ve just mated.” Kili asked. 

“Bilbo has chosen goats in order to supplement the food supplies for our herd. Thorin must be very pleased with his mate’s smart thinking.” Dis said with a smirk, still ignoring the increasing racket coming from nearby.

“A few goats aren’t gonna go far. He should have got pigs for that .” Fili critiqued.

“Not so. The goats will supply us with rich milk daily to supplement our meat supply. And with Bilbo’s help, we will learn to breed them and they will be an alternate meat source in the future as well.” Balin corrected.

“Milk? What milk?” Kili asked with a slightly disgusted look.

Bilbo whinnied loudly nearby as his mate brought him to climax.

“There’s a bowl floating around here somewhere to sample, if it hasn’t been finished yet.” Dis directed them.

They immediately started scouring the crowd for said bowl of milk.

A few moments later, Thorin ambled over, still slightly out of breath but looking content and refreshed. Bilbo’s upper torso was draped over his stallion’s back as he tried to regain his breath.

“We will need some of the herd to learn and work with Bilbo. This is an investment for the entire herd, we will do our share of the work.” He demanded.

“We’ll help!” Kili loudly announce. He and Fili had managed to commandeer the bowl of milk, but it was almost gone. “We’ll help, Uncle Bilbo.” Fili confirmed.

“Sharli and I will also learn from him. I think it would be best to keep as many stallions as possible freed up for defense and hunting.” Dis volenteered.

“I’d like to learn meself, if there be no problems with it.” Bofur chimed in.

Thorin nodded. “That should be plenty for now. You will aid Bilbo as he requires it.”

That evening, Bilbo started teaching them how to milk the goats. Everyone from the herd brought cups and bowls since they didn’t have any containers for large amounts of milk. Sharli and Dis picked it up quickly. Bofur politely passed, saying he might learn some other time.

Fili and Kili gave it a try. “Ahhh! I can’t do it! It just feels so wrong!” Kili yelled, giving up.

“It . . it is kind of . . Kili’s right. It just feels wrong.” Fili gave up shortly after.

The mares just laughed at them. As if the goats were that much like centaurs. “Oh please. How are you going to mate a mare if you can’t even milk a goat?” Dis teased them.

“Those two things are entirely different!” Kili defended. 

Bilbo chuckled. “Is fine. They do else.”

“Of course. I’m sure there’s plenty for the squeamish stallions to do.” Sharli teases.

“We are not squeamish. This is just . . inappropriate for young innocent minds.” Fili declared haughtily. 

That got a real laugh out of their mother. “Innocent my arse!”

They set up a small tent for the goats and Bilbo ushered them in using a long stick as a guide. It was too risky to leave them exposed and unattended in the field over night. With the goats settled, Bilbo rejoined his mate for dinner. Afterwards, he did his best to explain what they would need for caring for the goats. 

He didn’t get very far though, since Thorin had other activities on his mind. Bilbo gave up with a giggle under his mate’s affectionate ministrations and they headed to the back room for the night. They could always talk about the goats tomorrow.


	11. Frerin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! . . Mostly. We are finally moved, but I am still trying to get the house all put together. BUT I will be resuming weekly posts for each story . . . For now. I was able to get ahead in a couple of my stories, but I am a little behind in HoD. So, I’m going to do my best to catch up and keep up with my weekly posts. If I can’t keep up I may have to switch to posting every other week, but I will let you know before it happens.
> 
> BONUS CHAPTER!!!  
> I’m posting another first chapter for a new work. This one is called ‘Wolf and Rabbit’ and you can find it in ‘Future Works.’ Read the summary below. Check it out if you like and let me know what you think. :)
> 
> Wolf and Rabbit:  
> Bilbo was content with his life as a surgeon. True, the hours were crazy and he didn't have much of social life, but the pay was good and he got to help a lot of people. Then one day he just had to go and help a wounded gangster he found in an alley. Now that same gangster is hanging around the hospital where Bilbo works looking for his saving angel 'Bella.' As much as he wants to clear up the misunderstanding, he's afraid of what the big grumpy gangster will do to him when he finds out his 'angel' is a guy. How is this his life?!
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin  
> Straight Thorin, Straight Bilbo
> 
> Sharli's profile has been posted.

Finally, the day had come. The herd was loading up the last of the wagons in preparation for the beginning of their migration. The young stallions were prancing about in their excitement. Thorin and his advisors were busy directing and wrangling everyone into a cooperative mass.

Bilbo watched over his goats in the field nearby. He already had everything he needed strapped to his back. Not that he owned much in the first place. Thorin had made him his own grooming kit and a few other practical items, all of which fit comfortably onto his back.

They were all ready to go, so he kept himself and his goats out of everyone’s way. They would never say it, but he knew he would only be a nuisance. He had never migrated before and it both excited and scared him. 

On the one hand, it was an adventure: new and exciting. He had always craved for more than his quiet little life back in the Shire. But on the other hand, he had come to think of this place as his new home and, the last time he left home, it had not turned out well for him. 

He looked back at the herd until his eyes found his mate. He grinned to himself as he sought out the rest of his new family. At least he wouldn’t be alone this time. He always felt safe with his stallion and Dis watched over him like an older, protective sister. Even his new nephews (he was still adjusting to thinking of them as such but their insistence on calling him ‘Uncle Bilbo’ was certainly making it easier) watched out for him in their own way.

He didn’t have a clue what migration would be like, but he was determined to face the challenges with his new herd and family and do whatever he could to help. He sighed as his belly grumbled again. He only hoped he would be more of a help than a hinderance. 

_~Thorin~_

“Move out!!” His command rang through the air before it was followed by a horn blow signifying the migration had begun. It was already mid-morning and they were just pulling out. He took the lead at the head of the herd, fully decked in his chainmail and leathers. A herd on the move was more vulnerable and therefore all of the defending stallions were prepared for combat should they be attacked. 

Dwalin trotted up next to him after checking on the caravan’s formation. “We’ve got a weak spot we can’t afford.” He informed gruffly. 

Thorin turned back to examin their formation. Nothing seemed out of place until he realized there was no sign of Bilbo. His head jerked towards the field in mild alarm. There was his mare, driving the goats alone and unprotected. This was a major oversight. They had been so caught up in preparations that they had forgotten to factor in the goat herd. 

The goats were one of their most valuable resources and there was no way Thorin was going to leave his mate out on the edges. That would like offering him up to any passing renegade stallions. Both Bilbo and the goats needed to be kept safe in the securest part of the caravan.

“We need to move him to the center. The mares and young ones can help him herd the goats. We cannot afford to lose them. I’ll bring him in. You prepare the caravan.” 

Dwalin trotted back to the heavily guarded center where the mares and foals were kept to start making room for the goat herd while Thorin quickly handed off leading the caravan to Balin before trotting over to meet his mate. 

Bilbo nickered in greeting but his tail swished nervously at Thorin’s stern look. Thorin matched his step before leaning down for a reassuring nuzzle. “It’s not safe for you to be outside the caravan. I need you to herd the goats over so we can put you in the center where it’s safest.”

“Oh.” Bilbo sounded relieved. “Okay.”

With Bilbo’s direction, Thorin helped him to drive the goats over towards the caravan. There was some confusion (mostly on the part of the goats) when they had to pass through the wall of the caravan to reach the center, but, quickly enough, Bilbo and the goats were safely tucked away.

After a quick parting kiss, Thorin weaved out and headed back towards the front of the caravan. He wouldn’t always have to stay at the front, but for the first week or two he would until the herd established its routine.

He returned to the front with Dwalin and Balin. Until they made it to the first stopping point, they would stop only at night to rest. Repeatedly making and breaking camp would waste too much time, so they would march without doing so until they reached the first camp spot.

He looked back again, reassuring himself that his mate was where he should be: tucked safely within the herd. He’d be happier when he could join him and gaurd his mate himself. But, for now, this would have to do.

_~Dis~_

Dis stole a quick glance out towards her brother-in-law who was grazing the goats a little ways from the caravan under the careful gaurd of several stallions. They had stopped early in order to asses the wagons and supplies to make sure they were traveling adequately. She had kept a close eye on him throughout the day but was now helping out with the assessments. 

Something had seemed off about him today but she hadn’t quite put her finger on it yet. Perhaps it was simply the excitement of a new experience. She finished up her assessments, not finding anything out of place, and was about to join her brother-in-law in the field while the stallions situation the wagons for the night when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

“Frerin?” She turned back towards the way they came as a light colored stallion came galloping up to her. 

“Mahal! You really left without me! You could have waited another day or two.” He panted at her as he walked the last few dozen feet.

“You know our migration routine. _You_ could have gotten here on time. Of course, _then_ You would have had to help with the work.” She gave him a disapproving glare.

He shrugged it off. “Finding a mare to continue our line is more important than packing a few wagons.”

She rolled her eyes. Like many other stallions, Frerin spent every summer wandering from herd to herd in search of a mare instead of helping take care of the herd. Yet, every fall he returned alone. “And where is this mare that you are working so hard to acquire. 

“Couldn’t find any worthy of carrying our line.” He shrugged. “Maybe next year, huh?”

Dis huffed at him. She knew the truth of the matter. As the prince of a dying tribe, it would be difficult to convince a mare to leave her own herd to join his. Only a mare in love would ever choose such a thing and, frankly, Frerin rarely stayed anywhere long enough to develope a real relationship with one. “Or you could stay with your herd for once and help with the mines. Our gold supplies are getting low.”

“Mares are worth their weight in gold, dear sister. When I find one, it will be better than spending all those summers gold digging.” Frerin tsked.

“You could craft yourself a dozen mares in gold had you spent all those summers digging.” She retorted dryly before turning to head towards Bilbo and his goats.

“Oh, come on, Dis. You know our herd will die off if we don’t get some more mares. I don’t understand why it bothers you so much that I’m trying to find one. Our line is getting smaller and smaller. We may have your sons but we can forget Thorin ever finding a mare. All he cares about is the herd.” Frerin followed several steps behind.

“Oh really?” Dis raised a brow at him. “It might interest you to know that Thorin found himself quite an attractive and fertile mare while you were off running around.”

“What?! How?! From where?! What tribe?! Who would choose a royal Durin who didn’t even carry the tribal color?!” His questions were starting to take on a spiteful tone.

“Someone who chose him for _who_ he was, not _what_ he was!” She snapped back. Thus was the root of Frerin’s problems. It wasn’t as though Frerin craved a family of his own, a mare was little more than a status symbol for him and he expected no different from the mares he courted, assuming they would choose him simply because he was the prince of a tribe.

She trotted over to Bilbo, stomping a little harder than necessary. She was ready to be done with her brother for a few moments. It was frustrating how he always put his own desires before the needs of the herd and she and Thorin always had to pick up the slack.

“How are you feeling, Bilbo? And how are our goats doing?” She reached down to scratch behinds the ears of one.

“Good. All good.” Bilbo nodded before eyeing the new stallion who came up behind her suspiciously.

“What’s with the goats?” Frerin asked, seemingly having not noticed Bilbo yet.

“A new food resource. We milk them for additional food supplies. It was Bilbo’s idea.” Dis ended with a note of pride.

“Bilbo?” Frerin finally noticed the small pony, eyeing him up and down in confusion. “And what is ‘Bilbo’?”

Bilbo shuffled nervously from the attention and stepped closer to Dis.

“He is a pony, from a race in the West. He was smuggled to the east and Thorin and Dwalin rescued him. He’s a part of our herd now.” Dis explained as she petted the pony reassuringly. “This is Frerin, he is my and Thorin’s brother.” 

“Oh!” The pony perked up. “I hear lot you.” He have a respectful bow of his head.

“What? Is he a child or something?”

“He didn’t know any Westron when we found him. He is still learning it.” Dis defended.

“Who doesn’t know Westron? Even we speak Westron?!”

Dis shrugged. “His people are very reclusive.”

“Okay. So what, he’s the goat keeper now? Shouldn’t he be working with the other stallions?”

“Frerin!” Dis was scandalized. 

“What? Just cause he’s short doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have to work like the rest of the stallions. Isn’t that what you’re always going on about? Herd duty and all?”

Dis gaped at him. “Did you get kicked in the head?! Why would you even suggest . . “ could it be Frerin couldn’t tell what Bilbo was? But his scent? Dis sniffed the air now looking for something that was clearly missing. Mares weren’t as sensative to the heat scent, but, at this proximity, she should have no problem picking it up even in a breeze. 

“Bilbo? Are you . . feeling okay?” The lack of a heat scent could only mean one thing and it was as concerning as it was exciting.

“Yes.” He cocked his head at her in confusion at the concern in her voice.

“Alright.” Maybe it was best not to say anything. A pregnancy in his current state wasn’t likely to last long. If he hadn’t noticed, she shouldn’t bring his attention to it and risk the disappoint that would likely follow. She wondered if Thorin had noticed since he hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Well. Don’t work too hard and stay with the stallions. I need to make a report to Thorin.” Thorin needed to know before the rest of the herd picked up on the change. His behavior would dictate how the others would react to the situation.

Frerin scoffed next to her as they walked away. “Why does he get special treatment?”

“Shut up, Frerin.” She snapped, not in the mood to deal with him. “We need to let Thorin know you’re back.”

Frerin tsked but stayed quiet otherwise. 

They found Thorin in the midst of directing the wagons into a circle. They would act as a protective barricade around the herd while they rested for the night. Everyone would be sleeping together within the circle, goats included.

“Thorin! We need to talk.”

“Was there a problem with the supplies?” He asked not even stopping to look at them before barking out more directions. 

Dis and Frerin kept up beside him. “No. The supplies are fine. It’s about Bilbo.”

His head snapped around already scanning the nearby fields for his mate. “What about Bilbo? Is he hurt? I assigned stallions to gaurd him and the goats.”

“He’s . . fine . . for now, but we need to talk.”

“What’s the big deal? He’s just another stallion. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of those around.” Frerin interjected, not happy about being overlooked.

Thorin seemed torn between anger and confusion as he stared at his brother.

“Oh yeah. Frerin is back.”

“What is the meaning of this? Has he not met Bilbo?”

“He has. That’s what we need to talk about.”

Thorin’s face took on a dark glare. “And what is the problem. Does he not approve?” It was clear from the low growl in his voice that Frerin’s good opinion was unnecessary.

“As if that matters.” She paused. “Have you noticed . . anything different . . about Bilbo?”

Thorin’s attention was once again fixed on his sister. “I noticed nothing unusual this morning, but things have been hectic all day. Why?”

“It’s . . his scent, Thorin.”

Thorin’s brows scrunched in confusion for a few moments while he pieced together what was happening. When he finished making all the connections his eyes widened in surprise. His face lit with joy only briefly before the gravity of the situation weighed it down into a concerned frown. “Do you think he will carry?” He rubbed his beard anxiously.

“No.” Dis answered gravely. “And, in his current condition, it might be better that way.”

Thorin nodded somberly, already mourning the inevitable loss. “Does he know?”

“If he does, he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Thorin nodded. “Then we will not bring attention to it. The herd will notice soon enough. I will need you to help me keep a close eye on him.”

“Of course.” Dis nodded.

“Ugh! What’s the big deal?! He’s just another stallion! What are you guys even talking about?! None of it makes sense!” Frerin howled, fed up with being ignored.

Dis rolled her eyes as Thorin scowled at his brother. Frerin always was the dramatic one. “Proper introductions seem to be in order. I’m sure they can spare you now, Thorin.”

Thorin looked around assessing the herd’s progress. The wagons were in place and things were being finished up with them. “Very well. I wish to check on him anyway. Come.”

“Thanks, but I already met him. I’m more interested in this mare you’ve managed to snag. Funny, I don’t see any new mares in the herd. Maybe Dis was just pulling my tail.” Frerin challenged indirectly. 

Thorin nodded. “Come, I will introduce you.”

Frerin smirked as though he still didn’t believe it was true and they walked back out to the field where Bilbo was keeping the goats. His smug look quickly morphed into confusion then disgust as Thorin strode right up to Bilbo for an affectionate nuzzle, wrapping the pony in a gentle embrace.

“What in Mahal’s name has gotten into you?! He’s a stallion!” Frerin gestured nearly frantically at the pony.

“This is Bilbo. He’s a stallion mare from the west . . And he is my mate.” 

Frerin’s jaw dropped at the admission. “He’s a what?!” 

“A stallion mare. He has the equipment for both, but he functions as a mare.” Dis explained with less patience then she usually displayed. 

Frerin looked incredulously skeptical. “And you’re sure of this?”

Thorin raised an unimpressed brow. “I think I would have noticed if he wasn’t a mare during one of the many times I’ve mounted him.” 

Frerin rubbed at his short beard in confusion as he sized the pony up more carefully. “So . . You’re really mated? Like in front of the herd and everything?”

“Obviously. As Lead Stallion, Everything was done officially.” Dis scoffed. 

“And they didnt have a problem with . . “ he waved a hand at the pony. “Him?”

“Of course not! In fact, Bilbo had to turn down a good many stallions before Thorin finally made his move.” 

Bilbo snuggled deeper into Thorin’s embrace as Frerin eyed him again contemplatively.

Frerin’s smug look slowly returned. “Okay! Well then, congratulations are in order then. I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d ever find someone to take your uptight arse, but I guess I was wrong.” He shrugged. “Good for you!”

Dis scolwled disapprovingly. It was obvious by the tone in his voice that he had assessed the pony and found him less than a proper mare. He was no doubt comforting himself that his brother hadn’t been able to find anything but a disfuntional mare to take him. Dis seethed on their behalf.

“Thank you.” Thorin replied flatly. “Now go get updated by Balin and report to Dwalin to be assigned your duties.” Clearly His tone hadn’t been missed by Thorin either.

“Yeah, yeah. Work as usual. It’s good to see you, too.” He gave a mock salute before trotting back to find the older advisor.

“Sometimes I just want to smack him!” Dis loved her brother but he could be a right spoiled brat.

“Just ignore him. In a way, I’d rather he be condescending than envious.” Thorin confessed as he ran his fingers through his mates curly hair.

“He’ll be envious soon enough.” She predicted. It was only a matter of time before Bilbo’s heat scent returned. No stallion could dismiss him then. 

“I know. Frerin has always been the spoiled one, not burdened with the responsibilities you and I have had. I’m more concerned about how he will act when he realizes I have something he wants.” 

“If he does anything to hurt Bilbo, so help me, I’ll skin his hide myself!” Dis threatened hotly. 

Thorin chuckled quietly but didn’t say anything. She knew what his deeper concern was. She just hoped Frerin wasn’t dumb enough to do something that would get him exiled.

“Would you mind tending the goats? I wish to have some time with my mate.” He asked lowly.

“Of course not. He needs to rest anyway. I’ll take care of them tonight.” She petted the pony affectionately.

Bilbo handed over the guide stick before Thorin led him away. The wagons were set and most of the herd were still milling about tending to this or that. Thorin led him inside the barricade and found them a quiet spot away from most of the activity. As much as he would have liked some more privacy with his mate, there would be no privacy to be had until they reached their first stopping point.

_~Thorin~_

They sat down together and Thorin began lavishing his mate with gentle caresses and affectionate touches. There was so much going on at once, he had so many thing on his mind. Frerin’s arrival and potential reactions. Bilbo’s pregnancy and inevitable miscarriage. The herd, supplies, safety and seemingly a hundred other things that required his attention.

But right now Bilbo was his top priority. He didn’t know if Bilbo was aware he was carrying yet or not, either way, he knew Bilbo would be requiring more of his attention. Mares who were unable to carry to term often suffered from depression, increasingly so with every unsuccessful pregnancy. Thorin would need to keep a close eye on his mate through the winter.

“Frerin . . Not like me?” Bilbo’s timid question cut through Thorin’s distracted thoughts.

Thorin nuzzled into his hair. “Frerin values what he can see on the surface, he doesn’t spare much time for treasures hidden from view.” Thorin wished he could promise that Frerin would warm up to him, but, of the three possible scenarios, it was the least likely. Thorin was expecting either bitter resentment or covetous desire or even both. That he would come to love and adopt Bilbo as family, just didn’t seem to fit with Frerin’s personality.

“Pay him no mind. He will come to accept you.” If he wished to stay with this herd, he won’t have a choice.

Bilbo nodded and snuggled closer to his stallion, content to be wrapped up in his arms. 

Now that Thorin was paying attention, the subtle signs of his mates pregnancy were obvious. Where he was more heated and driven before, he was more calm and cuddly now. His fatigue was more obvious and he seemed likely to drift off at times, despite the short day’s march. And his scent had changed to something subtle and relaxing rather than strong and maddening.

Thorin reached back and rubbed his pony’s belly where their unborn foal would likely never emerge from while Bilbo dozed lightly in his arm. He was still much too thin to carry. His body would likely simply reabsorb the undeveloped foal as if it had never been there. He had known this would likely happen, but it didn’t lessen the sorrow in knowing their foal wouldn’t make it. 

He held his mate tightly to himself, praying to Mahal for the means and strength to see his mate through the winter.


	12. Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur's profile has been posted.
> 
> I apologize ahead of time for any broken hearts. Please don't hate me. T_T
> 
> 500 Kudos for this story! Thank you so much everyone! :D

Over the next several days, the herd traveled south along the river, only leaving it in order to give the human city of Dale a wide berth before returning to it. Everything had been going smoothly so far, the few small issues they had at the beginning were easily worked out and most of the herd members were familiar with their tasks enough now that Thorin didn’t need to monitor every little thing.

They were currently stopped by the river for a day of refreshing. Mares didn’t like going without a proper bath or grooming for too long, so every three or four days they would stop to restock and refresh. Hunting parties would also be sent out to see what could be found to bolster their supplies.

Currently, most of the herd was washing up and relaxing in the river. Bilbo bathed with his family as usual, though it seemed like there were a lot more stallions hanging around him lately. It was different than before when they were all trying to court him. Now, they simply seemed to maintain a closer but static proximity to him. He briefly wondered if had to do with his pregnancy. He stared in distracted curiosity at Balin’s short mane while he thought. He had been seeing a lot more of Balin and Dwalin lately.

“Is something wrong, laddie?” Balin asked kindly.

Bilbo shook himself out of his daze. “No, sorry.” He blushed bashfully. “Was . . “ he tilted his head, “not knowing?”

“A question? Something I can help you with perhaps?”

Bilbo thought for a moment, wondering if it would be insensitive or rude to ask, but finally gave in to his curiosity. “You short hair. Why no long?”

Balin chuckled. “You wonder why my brother and I keep our hair short while others of our kin keep it long?”

“Yes. No want?”

“It’s true that longer hair is preferred by most of our kind as it is easier to braid. Braids are considered highly fashionable and desirable. However, it is very difficult to maintains one’s own mane, as I’m sure you know, and mane keeping is really more a mare’s specialty. So, for those of us who don’t have a close mare relative, we often choose hair style alternatives that are easier to manage. Thus, a shorter style.”

Bilbo took a moment to process the information, grateful that Balin hadn’t talked down to him as if he were a simpleton because of his lack of language skills. He could understand much more than he could say and it bothered him when others spoke to him like he was a child.

“Mares . . very few?” He asked, realizing he had only seen two mares of their kind since he had joined them and many of the new stallions had shorter manes and hair. Now that he thought about it, it was very different from what he had grown up with. Mares and stallions like him were the majority among his people.

“Oh, yes. They have always been the minority, though never to the extent of recent times. It is believed that there is only one mare for every ten stallions these days, though some say it’s as few as one for every twenty.”

Bilbo gaped in shock. No wonder the mares were pampered and protected as much as they were! There were no foals without mares. And no foals meant no new generations. Their kind could literally die out with such numbers. “Why so few?!”

“There are many factors that contribute to our loss of mares: limited resources, human encroachment onto our lands, competition between tribes, etc. But perhaps the most damaging and concerning is the activity of the Mordorians.”

Bilbo tilted his head in confusion. “The what?”

“The Mordorians.” Balin chuckled. “They are a corrupt, twisted race of centaurs that come from the toxic wasteland of Mordor. They are meat eaters, much like us, only they are . . much less choosy about what they eat and will even resort to eating other centaurs. They are mare thieves. You see, their own mares, what few they have, are as ugly and twisted as their stallions as only the toughest can survive in such a toxic environment. They are . . jealous of other races for the beauty of our mares and will steal them away at any opportunity. We have lost a great many of our mares to their trickery and raids. My own mother was lost to them.”

“I . . so sorry.” Bilbo was stricken by his loss, both his own and for his people. He had no idea there was such a nasty race in the world. The Shire was so sheltered and protected. “They not . . come back?” He asked softly.

Balin shook his head gravely. “If they can not be recovered immediately, their chances of surviving or returning is very slim. Even most who are recovered eventually succumb to the abuse and effects of the toxicity of the land. When Thorin’s own mother was taken, Thrain led a small army into Mordor to rescue her. They were able to retrieve her but she was in poor shape and the poison had already set in. She did not live long after, I’m afraid.”

Bilbo’s heart clenched as he absorbed Thorin’s loss. His heart ached for his mate and he only hoped he would be able to ease some of that burden. “Why only you mares? Not other’s?” He wondered.

“Oh, it’s not just us. They will take any mare they can get their hands on, but our migratory lifestyle puts us at higher risk. We cannot fortify miles of road or even every campsite. They take advantage of our low numbers and our nomadic lifestyle.” Balin explained. “Sedentary races can afford to build defenses and fortifications. We can hardly accomplish such a thing while on the move.”

Bilbo contemplated the information in silence not sure what else to say on the matter. Surely nothing could be said that would diminish the loss and pain his new family had suffered. He did come to the realization that every foal he could bear would be vital for the herd. 

He examined himself. It was nearly unheard of for a Shireling bearer to lose a foal, but he was sorely lacking the plump layer of reserves that his people worked hard to maintain. His heart sank as he realized he might not be able to sustain a foal in his current condition. It seemed like he would be failing in the single most important task for a mare of the herd. He doubted it, but he hoped the others hadn’t noticed the pregnancy yet. He didn’t want to be the cause of yet more heartbreak.

“Come on. Ya stay in the water any longer and ye’ll turn all wrinkly.” Bofur snapped him out of his disheartening thoughts. 

Bilbo looked around and realized that most of the herd had already left the water. The only ones left were himself and several stallions seemingly standing gaurd over him. He hurried to his feet with apologies. 

“Don’t mention it. The cold water feels good on tired legs, don’t it.” Bofur dismissed his apologies kindly. He and the remaining stallions followed Bilbo out of the water and escourted him back to the temporary campsite. 

_~Frerin~_

Frerin wandered around looking for something to do that didn’t involve work. He was doing his best to avoid most of his family. All Dis and Thorin seemed able to talk about was the blasted pony. Almost the whole herd was hovering around the wee thing as if he was some great treasure to be guarded.

It was annoying. Here he was after having been gone for months and they could do little more than spare him a glance. It made him itch to do something that would make them notice him.

He spied his nephews hovering over something between them a little ways from the camp and trotted over to get in on the, undoubtedly, fun prank that was in the works.

“Uncle Frerin!” They called in unison as he approached. Their enthusiasm made him smile. At least he was still the ‘fun’ uncle.

“What are you two troublemakers up too? Got room for one more?” He wrapped an arm around each of them conspiratorially. 

“Look what we found!” Kili gushed excitedly as he held up his prize. 

Frerin raised his brows impressed. It was a good sized snake, at least three feet long. It wasn’t poisonous, but it _was_ perfect for the old snake scare prank. “Awesome! Who are we pranking?” He mock whispered.

“We were trying to decide, but we don’t think we should. The herd is kinda tense right now. Uncle won’t take it well.” Fili confided.

“Oh, come on. Thorin needs to lighten up and the herd needs a good prank to help with all that tension. Come on. I know the perfect target.”

The young stallions exchanged an uncertain glance but followed their Uncle. 

This was perfect. He could prank off some steam and rile his brother up all at once. 

He meandered around casually with his nephews following close behind him until they started to approach the area in the field where Bilbo was watching over the goats.

“Um, Uncle. I don’t think we should bother the stallions on gaurd duty.” Fili spoke up when it was clear where they were headed.

“You’re right. It’s best not to bother them.” He agreed. 

The boys fell silent again until Frerin came to stop a little ways from the herd of goats.

“Then what are we doing?” Kili asked confused.

“We’re gonna prank the pony.” Frerin though that much would be obvious by now.

“What?!” “We can’t prank Bilbo!” Fili whispered harshly over his brother.

Frerin rolled his eyes. Not his nephews too! Why was everyone so fixated on the blasted pony?! “It’s not like we’re gonna hurt him. It’ll just give him a good scare.”

Kili was shaking his head almost violently. “We can’t prank Bilbo!”

“Shhhh!” Frerin hushed him. “Mahal! What is the big deal?! Just cause he’s got an extra hole in the back?!” He whispered hotly. 

“What?! No! Bilbo’s . “

“Uncle will be livid.” Fili cut his brother off with an elbow to his ribs. “You don’t understand how angry he’ll be.” He gave his brother a warning glare.

Frerin seethed. It was just a bloody prank! No one was going to get hurt. Even his nephews were turning into tight-arsed duty-bound stallions. “Just give me the bloody snake!” He all but ripped the snake out of Kili’s hands.

“No, Uncle!” “You don’t know what you’re doing!” They pleaded in harsh whispers.

Frerin ignored them. It would be too suspicious to walk the snake over and if he released it this far away there was no guarantee it would go where he wanted it too. Looks like he would have to toss it. Fortunately, the stallions on gaurd had pretty much completely ignored him and his nephews so far. 

Frerin gripped the agitated snake by the head as he looked around to make sure no one was watching. After a few seconds, he figured it was now or never and, with one quick swing, tossed the snake towards the pony. It landed not even feet away from him and Frerin snickered when he startled. 

He turned with a self-congratulating grin to his nephews, but they were nowhere in sight, he looked around wondering how they could have taken off so fast without him hearing it. He shrugged and turned back to the pony. He didn’t want to miss the action.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin was meeting with a recently returned hunting party. They had only managed to nab a single boar, but it would serve as tonight’s dinner at least. Every little bit helped. He was just dismissing the hunters when his nephews thundered up to him, barely stopping in time.

“What is it now?” He sighed.

“It’s Bilbo!” Kili started.

“Uncle Frerin! You have to stop him!” Fili further supplied.

“What are you talking about?!” Thorin’s gut churned. Would Frerin really try to hurt Bilbo?

“He’s gonna . “

Before Kili could finish a familiar squeal echoed through the air. Thorin took off in the direction of the field with his nephews right behind him. He had no time for answers right now.

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo watched over his goats distractedly, his mind preoccupied with his recent musings. He knew his foal was important, but now it seemed vital. He didn’t know what he could do to increase his chances of carrying to term. He had already had to cut back on his eating. He sighed in despair. It seemed hopeless. His stomach was already in knots from the stress and inevitable disappointment. He didn’t want to lose his foal. He didn’t want to disappoint his stallion. 

Suddenly, something landed in the grass not far from his feet and startled him out of his depressing thoughts. He looked around quickly but nothing seemed out of place, so he cautiously approached the rustling in the grass. 

He got closer and closer as it was hard to see through the long grass. When he finally got eyes on it, it was too late to react. The angry snake lunged at him and latched onto his leg just above his ankle. He reared with a frightened squeal, kicking his legs trying to dislodge the bad tempered snake.

Bilbo continued to thrash as everything erupted into chaos around him. The goats panicked, startled by the abrupt noise and commotion, and took off in several directions. The guard stallions fumbled as they were torn between retrieving the goats and attending to the frightened pony. Camp activities came to a sudden stop as every herd member’s focus turned toward the field.

_~Thorin~_

Within only moments, Thorin and several other stallions came charging out onto the field. Bilbo was still kicking and trying to dislodge the stubborn snake but the guarding stallions had at least got themselves together enough to try to calm him so they could help.

Dwalin and Gloin immediately began securing the area and making sure there were no more unwanted guests lurking about. Bofur grabbed Fili and Kili and they took off to round up the escaped goats. 

“Bilbo! Be still.” Thorin coaxed as he carefully approached his scared mate. 

Bilbo gushed something in his native tongue as he kicked the ground in frustration, still trying to knock off the snake.

Thorin hushed him as he rubbed his hand soothingly down his back. Bilbo was tight with nerves under his fingers. He needed him to calm down. “I need you to stay still so I can remove it.”

Bilbo nodded with a whimper and held himself still.

Thorin pulled out one of his daggers as he leaned down over the snake. It put up no resistance when he grabbed it and he wedged his blade into its mouth and carefully dislodged its fangs. He looked it over. It was already dead, Bilbo must have killed it in his thrashings and its jaw became locked. It wasn’t poisonous, Thorin assessed with a sigh of relief. But Bilbo was stressed and frightened and it wasn’t good for a pregnant mare.

He passed the snake to Dwalin who was standing by and turned his attentions to his mare. “Hush now.” He pulled the dancing pony in his arms and caressed him soothingly. “You’re Okay.”

Bilbo cast a scared look at the snake but welcomed his stallion’s comforting arms. “It bad?”

“It is not poisonous. The bite will have to be treated, but you’ll be fine.” 

Bilbo nodded stiffly and burried his face in his lover’s chest. “So scared.” He whimpered.

“You’re going to be fine.” Thorin ran his fingers through the pony’s curly hair.

“No scared for me.” Bilbo mumbled quietly. 

Thorin tensed. He knew better, but he had desperately hoped that Bilbo hadn’t noticed his condition. “You are both safe, but you need to calm down.” He rumbled softly into his mare’s ear. 

Bilbo nodded, taking a few deep breaths to get his emotions back under control. Thorin held him close as the adrenaline started to fade from his system, making him shaky and weak. He was murmuring soft encouragements into his mate’s ears, when Dis and Oin trotted up to them. 

“What happened?!” Dis demanded.

“I don’t know, but your sons seem to.” 

“And where are they?” Her tone belying the gentleness that she petted Bilbo’s back and sides with as she offered what comfort she could. 

“They've gone with Bofur to round up the goats.” He answered as he situated Bilbo so Oin could take care of his leg. 

Dis looked around again to reassess now that she knew Bilbo was okay. “This is a disaster. If I find out those two are responsible for this mess . .” 

“It wasn’t them. They came to me for help right before everything happened.” 

“Who else would be foolish enough to cause this much damage?” She asked baffled. “And to put poor Bilbo at risk? Even my sons aren’t this foolish!”

“I have my suspicions.” He sighed. If this was Frerin’s doing, he would not like the consequences. Thorin looked down when he noticed Bilbo fidgeting in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Bilbo was shifting restlessly on his feet. “I hurt.” He whimpered against his mates armor. 

Thorin met Dis’ wide, scared eyes as his heart sped up with fear. He gripped the pony tighter to his chest. “Oin!” 

“Where do you hurt, laddie?” 

“S-sto . . Stom . .” He groaned in frustration when he couldn't get the word off his tongue.

“You’re stomach?” Dis confirmed. “Thorin we need to lay him down!” She ordered when Bilbo nodded. 

“Aye. Let’s get him back to camp where he’ll be safer. I’ll examine him there.” Oin waved them on. 

Thorin gently led Bilbo back to the temporary camp with Dis and Oin. Most the herd was watching now and quickly moved out of the way as they approached. Sharli hurried over as they were laying Bilbo down and she and Dis quickly got to work making him as comfortable as possible.

Thorin lay down next to him and held him as Oin started his examination. He poked and prodded feeling around the pony’s abdomen to determine the damage. Bilbo burrowed into his mates arms occasionally wincing or whimpering from Oin’s prodding.

After a few minutes, Oin moved away and let the mares do their thing. 

“Well?!” Thorin demanded impatiently. 

“It’s hard to say. He could have just strained something. Early term is the most susceptible to miscarriage, though. Worst case: he loses the foal. We should know by morning. For now, keep him off his feet and comfortable. And, by Mahal, make him eat! I could barely hear over his stomach rumbling.” 

“We’ll see to it.” Dis answered, since Thorin was preoccupied with his sniffling mate. After making sure he was as comfortable as possible, Dis sat down to gently massage his belly and side while Sharli retrieved his food bag and did her best to coax him into eating.

He gradually relaxed into Thorin’s arms and was only able to eat a few bites before he drifted off under Dis’s relieving strokes. Thorin held him for as long as he could, but he still had to deal with the one responsible for this mess. When he was sure Bilbo was sleeping peacefully, Dis and Sharli helped to lay him down so Thorin could get up. After one more reassuring glance, Thorin left his mate in the caring hands of the other mares.

Dwalin immediately spotted him and trotted over with his nephews in tow. “The goats have all been retrieved and accounted for. Bofur is keeping them for now.”

Thorin nodded. “And what have my nephews to say on this matter?”

“They say they’ll only talk ta ye.” Dwalin stepped away a respectable distance to keep watch. 

Thorin led his nephews a little ways away for more privacy. “Talk.” He nearly growled.

The young stallions looked at each other. They didn’t like ratting their uncle out, but this was too serious a situation to hide the truth. “How’s Bilbo?” Kili wanted to know first.

“He has abdominal pain. It could be a strain or he could be losing the foal. We will know by morning.” He humored them. He knew they had become attached to the pony.

Their faces crumpled in sadness. Even as young as they were, they understood the value of every foal and the severity of one’s loss. “It was Uncle Frerin.” Fili started.

“We found a snake in the field. We knew it wasn’t a good time to prank anyone, so we were just messing with it between ourselves.” Kili rushed to explain. 

“Frerin found us and said we should prank someone, but we didn’t know he meant Bilbo!” Fili defended. 

“We tried to stop him, but he would listen to us! He doesn’t think Bilbo’s a real mare, so he didn’t think it would matter! I wanted to tell him Bilbo was carrying, but . . “

“But we knew we weren’t supposed to be talking about it.” Fili finished for him. “He got mad and wouldn’t listen, so we tried to come get you.”

“But we weren’t fast enough! And now Bilbo is hurt and he might lose his foal and it’s all our fault! Do you think he’ll hate us?” Kili ended softly.

Thorin rubbed at his forehead with a sigh. “This is not your fault. Bilbo will not hold it against you.” He reassured them. “Now go, you can visit him later, but let him rest for now. I have to deal with you’re uncle.” He added gravely. 

They nodded and wandered back to the caravan somberly. Thorin called Dwalin over and sent him to retrieve Frerin. A few minutes later, Frerin ambled up with Dwalin close behind. 

“I can’t believe they ratted on me. I swear, you’re boring the fun out of those two.” He accused. 

Thorin crosses his arms in disapproval, doing his best to keep himself under control and not lash out. He had to balance his duty as a mate with his duty as a Lead. “What you have done is such a grave offense that even you’re own nephews know better than to protect you from the consequences.”

“What?! Cause I scared a pony?! It’s not like I hurt anyone!”

“You have offended a mare, my mare,” He growled. “And endangered the foal he’s carrying! My foal! He is suffering abdominal pain now, because of your little _prank_ , And might lose his foal from the stress!” Thorin lost the battle to keep his voice down.

“What?” Frerin asked baffled. “He can’t be carrying, he’s not . .”

“He is carrying because he is fully mare! Why can’t you get it through your thick skull?! Just cause he has a sheath?! He entered this herd with full mare’s rights and, if you do anything to cause him harm again, I will banish you from this herd!! Do I make myself clear?” Thorin ended low and threatening. 

Frerin was gobsmacked but managed to utter a ‘yeah, sure.’

Thorin stomped away still fuming as he went to go sit with his mate. He needed to get Frerin out of his sight before he did something unbecoming of a Lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Roached Manes and Mares' scene inspired by onestepatatime.


	13. Woodlanders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone, this is the last week of chapter posts for this month. I just can't keep up with posting three chapters a week every week right now. I don't know what I was thinking when I started writing three works at once (won't be doing that again). So, until further notice, I will be posting new chapters for each work 2 times a month. So, the first and third full weeks will be my posting weeks (that cuts down the number of chapters I need to write from 12+ to 6 per month). Maybe when I finally finish a couple I will be able to bump it back up to every week, but, right now, it's just too much. I considered pausing a couple so I could work on one at a time, but I just can't do that to you guys, so this was my alternative. I figured that, this way, all three stories will still get regular updates.
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me! I appreciate all my readers and thrive on your comments! Have a great rest of the month! :D
> 
>  
> 
>  **Bold text** = Greenspeech (Hobbitish/Shireling)  
>  _Italic text_ = Sindarin (Elvish/Woodlander)

Over a week later found them settling into their first stopping point: right outside the Greenwood along the Forest River. Normally, this would be Thorin’s least favorite stopping point as it was usually accompanied by lengthy, torturous engagements with the Woodlanders. This time, however, he was desperately hoping the leaf-eaters would have the key to seeing Bilbo through the winter.

Bilbo had recovered by morning with no lasting effects after the ill-natured prank and had been well enough to continue the migration on his own feet. Unfortunately, as they had predicted, his heat scent came back regardless several days later. Despite recovering from the prank, the small pony simply didn’t have the reserves to support the foal.

Thorin spared a glance in his mate’s direction as he directed the herd through their first temporary camp setting. His little mare had been down since the return of his season, though Thorin did his best to reassure him often that it wasn’t his fault.

The leaf-eaters had proven to be good for something at least since Bilbo had started to perk back up at the prospect of meeting a new race of centaurs. Just the night before. Bilbo had begged him to tell him more about them and he had struggled to find something, anything that wasn’t demeaning or offensive to say about them (much to his sister’s amusement). But he would write poems about them (though probably badly) if it would bring the smile back to his mate.

Frerin had been quiet lately, keeping to his duties and not causing any trouble. He had been keeping his distance from Thorin and most of the family for that matter. He never joined their family huddle during the nights’ rests and seemed to avoid them outright whenever possible. 

There was nothing Thorin could do about it. He couldn’t overlook his reckless behavior and risk it repeating and Frerin seemed to have no interest in accepting the pony as family. At the very least, finding out that he wouldn’t have to pin the loss of the foal on Frerin was a relief. He knew it hadn’t been the stallion’s intention. He would have hated to have to brand his own brother as a foal killer. Though he wouldn’t be exiled since it wasn’t intentional, it would still be a very negative mark against him in the eyes of all centaur. He might be better off exiled.

Thorin sighed. He only hoped Frerin had learned his lesson and wasn’t planning any more mischief. And, in time, perhaps he would come to accept Bilbo as family.

The sun was starting to set as he walked to the field where Bilbo and the mares were finishing up milking the goats for the night. Thorin waited for Bilbo to down his portion before leading him back to the camp. It didn’t take him long but he always waited until he had served everyone else first. 

Thorin led them to their newly erected tent and helped him settle into their quickly made bed pallet before pampering him with an evening brush-down.

Bilbo melted against him as Thorin lovingly groomed him. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes. We will meet them tomorrow.” Thorin chuckled into his curly hair. Hopefully Thranduil wouldn’t be too difficult. He’d hate to end up cussing out the pompous tree-shagger in front of his mate. Not that Bilbo would know what he was saying if he used his own language, but it was the principle of the matter.

When Bilbo fell asleep, softly snoring against him, Thorin put the brush away and lay them both down. Hopefully tomorrow would bring some encouraging news.

The next morning, Thorin and his advisors put a small group together for meeting with the Woodlanders. Bilbo would be coming, of course, and several extra stallions as guards. They didn’t take any wagons or goods. These meetings were more about maintaining the peace between their peoples than about trade. Their peoples had little of interest for each other. 

Bilbo bounced along beside his mate, excited about the meeting. Thorin smiled and humored him, grateful that his spirits were up again. If nothing else, that made this meeting worth it. 

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo looked around as they arrived at the meeting spot. He was wondering if they were going to have to wait as there was nobody there, when a small group of strange centaur emerged from the forest.

Fortunately, he wasn’t at the front of the group because he couldn’t help but stare. These centaur were tall, like the Domestics, with slender proportions. They were lighter colors in general, ranging from white to a soft reds and browns. They had short simple tails and no manes and their hooves were split through the center. But perhaps the most notable difference was the the set of branching antlers that their stallions sported. 

A white stallion with a beautiful set of white antlers stepped forward. “Greetings, Lead Stallion Thorin of the Durin tribe. I must beg your pardon as my father has pressing matters to attend to and has sent me in his stead.” He gave a respectful bow. “I am Legolas, Prince of Greenwood.”

Bilbo studied his mate when he heard a small scoff. At least he didn’t look to upset. 

“Greetings, Legolas, Prince of Greenwood. We look forward to forging another year of peace between our peoples.” Thorin returned diplomatically, not seeming displeased in the slightest about the Wood King’s absence. 

Bilbo heard the smallest sigh of relief and realized that the Prince must have been quite tense about the King’s absence. 

After successfully accomplishing the greetings without any fights or hollering breaking out, the atmosphere of the the meeting became much more relaxed. The guards from both sides took up posts around the meeting dignitaries at more distance as to provide privacy and those that were not directly involved in the talks seemed free to wander about. 

Bilbo kept out of the way, not sure what to do with himself as he wasn’t part of the official talks. He startled when a beautiful chiming voice spoke from beside him. “I have not seen you before. Are you new to the herd?”

He stared up at the elegant red-coated stranger. How did she get so close without him noticing? “Uh, yes.” He answered somewhat nervously. 

“If you’ll pardon my saying so, you do not look like a Khuzd.”

“No. No Khuzd. **Shireling**.” He corrected, not knowing the name for his people in the common tongue.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with that word.”

“From west. Over . . Hills?. No from here.” He tried to explain. “Humans bring me here.” He shivered at the memories.

“You were captured by humans? That is concerning. Are you not planning to return home? Will they not help you?”

Bilbo shook his head. “I home. This home now. This my herd . . My family.” He waved towards Thorin with Dis beside him. 

She glanced toward the Lead before turning with a smile back to Bilbo. “It is very good of him to have accepted you into his herd. I understand the Khuzd can be very exclusive to all but their own kind.”

Bilbo thought back to some of the reactions he had gotten when the new stallions started to arrive. “No. No Thorin. He good Lead.”

He was so preoccupied gazing at his beloved he entirely missed the look of surprise that passed over the fair Woodlander’s face. “You must be quite close to call him by his name alone.”

Bilbo looked back to her. “Yes. He my mate.”

She stared at him in shock, her eyes scanning over him again, no doubt wondering what she had missed. “You are. . . his mate?” She asked again as if to be certain. 

“Yes.” Bilbo forced himself to keep a strait face through the looks she was giving him. Clearly she thought he was a regular stallion.

Finally she seemed to have come to a decision. “If that is the case, than proper introduction must be made.” 

Before Bilbo could say anything, she walked over to her prince and whispered into his ear. The Prince turned back to Thorin. “I understand you have taken a mate as of recently.”

“I have. I was planning to introduce him after the initial talks.” Thorin turned and waved him over.

Bilbo approached nervously, wondering if he had said something he shouldn’t have.

“He?” The Prince asked baffled.

Thorin wrapped an arm around the pony as he came to stand beside him. “This is Bilbo. He is a stallion mare from a race in the west and my mate.”

The prince stared at him in surprise. “You are . . a Shireling?!”

Bilbo’s ears perked up. “You know?”

“You are familiar with his people.” Thorin stated in relief.

“Not personally, but I have heard about them from my Woodland friends who live on the other side of the mountain. I was under the impression that they did not leave their own borders.”

“He was smuggled over the mountains by humans and sold near Dale. We retrieved him and accepted him into the herd.” Thorin explained.

“As your mate, it would seem. I have never heard of such a thing as a stallion mare.”

“Yes, he accepted my mating proposal. He has the capacity to function as a stallion, but he seems more inclined to function as a mare. He has full mare’s status and rights with our herd.”

“Fascinating. Well, I offer you my congratulations and I will be sure to inform my father of your recent mating. It is only right to acknowledge the mate of the Lead Stallion, after all. **I hope to speak more with you and learn more about you.** “ He ended by addressing the pony in a flowing, melodious tongue. 

Bilbo’s mouth popped open with a gasp. **“You know Greenspeech?”**

**Some. My friends have traded with your people on occasion and have had to learn the basics. I asked them to teach me last I saw them. I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty.”**

Bilbo laughed in pleasant surprise. **“You speak it wonderfully! I can barely hear your accent! Oh, it has been so long since I could say exactly what I wish to say! I understand much of Westron now, but I still have trouble remembering words or putting them together properly.”**

“You speak his tongue?” Thorin interjected, surprise only barely covering the jealousy in his voice. 

“Some. I sincerely hope to get to know your mate better and to forge a friendship between our peoples. But it is getting late in the day and I can tell your mate is getting hungry. I propose we meet again tomorrow afternoon and we will dine here as we continue our discussion. We will provide the accommodations.” 

Thorin nodded, not showing his surprise at the offer. “Agreed. We will return tomorrow.” 

After a quick exchange of good-byes in Greenspeech, Bilbo turned to follow closely behind his mate.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin warred with himself the entire trip back. He hated that the Woodlander could understand Bilbo and even speak to him in his own language. No one should be closer to his pony than him. At the same time, Bilbo was in such high spirits he nearly skipped back to camp, merrily chatting and rubbing alluringly along his mate’s side. 

Thorin may not have been the reason for Bilbo’s improved mood, but he was certainly reaping the benefits of it. His mind was officially made when, later that evening, Bilbo rubbed up against him in the privacy of their tent, swishing his tail seductively. Thorin jumped at the offer and rode his little mate hard, working off the remains of his frustration.

He hadn’t tried to initiate a mount since they had found out about his pregnancy. First to avoid putting any extra strain on him and then, later after the miscarriage, because he wanted to give him space to recover. But if the Woodlanders company made his little pony happy (and consequentially horny), than they could chat and picnic as much as they liked.

The next day, the dignitary party loaded up supplies for the dinner meeting. There was no way they were going to eat leaves, so they prepared a freshly killed boar and several vessels of goats milk as their portions. 

Dis approached her brother as they made their way back to the meeting site. “Bilbo seems happy. I understand the Prince could speak his language.”

“So it seems.” 

She eyed him for a moment. “You don’t seem . . bothered by it.”

“I was at first. But he’s happy. He needed something to take his mind off our loss.” He answered quietly. “Besides, he’s receptive again.”

“Yes. I’m sure the whole camp knows that now.” She rolled her eyes. 

Thorin just smirked smugly. 

“Well, it’s good that they seem interested in him. The more emotionally invested they become the more willing they will be to help us provide what he needs for the winter.”

Thorin shook his head with a small smile. His sister was always the manipulative one.

When they got the the site, what was once open field was now covered in a massive tent. They were greeted by Woodland gaurds and ushered in. Thorin groaned inwardly when a set of massive white antlers came into view. 

“Greetings. My father has joined us today for our talks. Please make yourselves comfortable. Lead Stallion Thorin, we would be honored if you and your family would sit here with us.” The prince stepped forward and directed.

The party sat down and both Woodland and Khuzd centaurs bustled around to set the table for their meal. In the absence of anything else, Bilbo was brought a small bowl of fruit and a large mug of goats milk.

_~Legolas~_

“With your permission,” the prince addressed Thorin, “I would like to introduce your mate to my Father, King Thranduil of the Greenwood.” He finished after a nod from the Lead.

 **It-It is very nice to meet you, sire.”** Bilbo greeted nervously in his own tongue with a respectful bow of his head.

_“I had heard that Thorin had taken a mate, but I wonder why he and his advisers feast while you do not.”_ Thranduil commented in their own tongue. 

Legolas cringed internally. He wondered sometimes if his father lacked diplomatic tact or simply refused to use any. **“I see you do not eat meat. Is that all you have to eat?”** Legolas translated/paraphrased. Fortunately, his father didn’t understand Greenspeach.

 **“Ah, no. Actually, my people are fruit eaters but there is not much fruit available along our migration route.”** Bilbo answered sheepishly attracting his mate's concerned gaze. 

Legolas noted the warning glare the Lead Stallion sent him. **“That is unfortunate. You are welcome to share in what we have brought it if appeals to your taste.”** He pushed a bowl of salad closer to the pony before turning and translating for his father. 

From there, the official talks continued, but, despite his best efforts, his father was determined to make everything difficult and nothing was truly accomplished. As usual, when his father was involved in the peace talks with the Khuzd, Legolas counted it a victory whenever he could simply divert a conflict.

“What is that you are drinking? It doesn’t look like water or the usual mead of your people.” He asked when the conversation had come to a pause for a time.

“Goat’s milk.” Dis supplied. “We acquired a small goat herd from Dale in order to bolster our supplies for migration.” 

“Goat’s milk? That is clever. I didn’t know your people had knowledge of goat care.” Legolas spoke loud enough to cover his father’s scoff.

“We didn’t. It was Bilbo’s idea. He manages the goats and is teaching some of our people to care for them.” Thorin puffed up proudly. 

“Really? I know the Shirelings posses the largest and most fruitful orchards in the world. Do they also keep goats?” He address the pony. 

Bilbo startled from picking at his salad. “Oh. No many. They live . . “ he waved his hand around looking for the word. **”They wander free on our lands and we tend to them as necessary in exchange for their milk. There are many delicacies that can be made from milk that we have learned to make such as cheese and yogurt and go very well with our fruit.”**

“Delicacies? I would very much like to try them. Perhaps one day we will have something to trade for.”

 **”You mentioned trade with the Shirelings.** You eat fruit?” Bilbo asked switching back to Westron.

“As you can see, leaves and nuts are our staples, but we do enjoy the sweetness of fruit on occasion. Though I believe it is your **sweet wines** that my friends in the west trade for.”

“Oh, yes! Make many.”

“I’m quite sure my father would approve of trade if you were able to produce your sweet wines here in the East. I understand Shireling wine is the best.”

“Is good.” The pony scrunched up his nose in thought. “Need fruit first.” He fell silent in thought and Legolas took the opportunity to catch up the rest of the table of what they had discussed.

The official discussions continued and Bilbo sat quietly at the table in deep thought. Legolas couldn’t help but like the little Shireling. He was friendly, intelligent and eager to learn. His size and curls were adorably attractive in an exotic kind of way. The Lead Stallion had certainly done well in choosing his mate.

His weight seemed off, though. He had been given the impression that a Shirelings were a plump little race, feasting and indulging often in their sweet, sugary foods. This one was clearly underweight. It was unhealthy for any centuar’s ribs to be visible, but he was sure it was even more so for Shirelings. 

And the constant rumbling of his stomach certainly made it clear he wasn’t eating as much as he should. Unfortunately, the pony had only picked at the salad he had offered, eating only enough to be polite. Even if they wished to help, he wasn’t sure they would have anything to offer that would actually help the little Shireling.

_~Thorin~_

The meeting came to an end, successful in that no threats or blows were made. Thorin and his advisers stood aside waiting as the remains of their dinner were packed up by the serving stallions. They were just about to leave when Prince Legolas trotted over to them.

“My father and I would like to invite you, your family and advisers to a feast that will be held within our kingdom in two days. We will provide your meal, of course, and a guarded escort into the kingdom.”

“Yes!” Bilbo nearly shouted in excitement. “Or no? . . Sorry.” He backpeddled when his outburst attracted the stares of his family.

“We would be honored to attend.” Thorin answered coolly.

“Excellent!” Legolas beamed. “I will inform my father. And I promise we will take your food preferences into account.” And with that he left.

Thorin matched pace with his mate on the return trip. “Did you not like their food?”

Bilbo returned his gaze searchingly. “Is okay. . not . . filling?” He attempted.

“I understand.” He nodded with a small smile, but his gut was clenching. If the Woodlanders couldn’t help them feed his mate. He didn’t know what else he could do. But he would not lose hope just yet. Maybe they would discover something at the feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear, the Woodlanders aren't horses, they're deer. Bilbo and the Khazad still refer to them in 'horse' terms though because they aren't familiar with Woodlander 'deer' terms.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so sorry, but I had already planned for this foal not to make it. I can only promise that there will be lots of babies in the future.


	14. The Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had several people comment on my ‘Baby Bilbo’ prompt in ‘Future Works’ so I am SUPER EXCITED to be posting ‘Small, but Fierce’ as this month’s bonus sneak peak chapter! It is the first chapter to my ‘Baby Bilbo’ prompt. It actually wasn’t next on my list to post, but I decided to bump it up since so many seemed interested in it. You can find it in ‘Future Works’ and I will put the summary below. 
> 
> I just have to say, I can’t wait to write the full story cause it is gonna be a blast to write. XD Enjoy!! 
> 
> "Small, but Fierce" (Baby Bilbo Prompt)  
> As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about _anything_ in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk _that_ for all it's worth).

Two days later, Thorin was putting together his party for the Woodland feast. His nephews would be coming along with their mother this time and Balin, Gloin, and Dwalin would come as his advisers. It would be expected for them not to bring guards, as they were being provided a guarded escort, but Thorin refused to be caught unprepared. Gloin and Dwalin would double as private guards and Bofur was invited as an additional guard.

Thorin attempted to invite Frerin. As a prince of the herd, he should be included in the party, but his brother simply brushed him off and refused to attend. Bilbo, of course, would be coming. Thorin was pretty sure this was all because of him in the first place. 

The rest of the herd would stay and watch over the camp until they returned. About mid afternoon, Prince Legolas arrived with a large escort. “Greetings! I have come to personally see you to our halls.”

“Greetings. We welcome you and appreciate your concern.”

The Khazad and Woodlanders fell into step together as they marched back to the Greenwood. Bilbo was practically vibrating with excitement. He had been silent the whole trip back from the last dinner and Thorin had thought that he was just thinking. It wasn’t until later that evening he realized the pony thought he had spoken out of turn and was awaiting rebuke. 

Thorin had reassured him that, as the Lead’s mate, he was practically an extension of Thorin himself and was welcome to speak his mind as long as he did so tactfully, though he had to admit he wasn’t always good at that himself.

Since then, Bilbo had been super excited to be able to see the Woodland kingdom. If Bilbo wasn’t just as happy and eager to return to camp with him, he’d likely be jealous (more jealous). But, for Bilbo, it was clearly just another adventure and new experience. The one place he always wanted to be at the end of the day, was tucked in next to his stallion. 

Soon they approached the edge of the trees and the Woodlanders guided them through the thick brush. Bilbo kept close to his mate as he looked around at the imposing forest. Thorin nickered to him reassuringly, But was glad that his mate was keeping close. These were wild and unfamiliar lands and it wouldn’t do to lose his beloved pony. 

After a while of trekking through the woods, they eventually passed under a wooden arch made of two trees that looked like that had reach out to grab each other with their branches. Bilbo marveled as they passed into the Woodland King’s dwelling. 

The trees here were enormous and beautiful, covered in glowing mosses and vines. Bilbo’s head swiveled this way and that as he tried to take it all in. They were led down into a a wide open cavern made of the trees and rocks. Despite being underground, it wasn’t like a cave at all. The roof was covered in wide skylights where the trees had been pulled away so that the sun shown down into the hall. Great tree trunks acted as pillars and supported the walls made of earth and rock.

Bilbo continued to stare wide-eyed at everything as they were led into the great feasting hall. Bilbo was barely paying attention when Prince Legolas guided Thorin and his mate to sit with him and his father.

Bilbo was still gaping as the woodlanders began to cover the tables with food. 

“I trust my kingdom meets your approval.” The king commented in Westron in response to the pony’s awestruck gazes. His usual refusal to speak in the common tongue seemingly set aside for the occasion. 

Bilbo turned to the king, as if just realizing where and with who he was. “Yes!” He recovered quickly. “Is . . **beautiful**.” He couldn’t remember the word in Westron.

The king smirked smugly after the prince had translated for him.

“Far better than dusty tents or dank caves, is it not?”

Legolas cringed at the open slight. Bilbo simply stared at the Woodland king in contemplation. **”It is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Though, I would be too frightened to live here myself. You Woodlanders are such tall and elegant creatures and handle the terrain so masterfully. We Shirelings aren’t meant to live in such dense forests, I’m afraid. The wide open plains are much less stressful for us, as long as it’s protected.”**

Legolas translated the polite response, impressed by the tact of the little pony who managed to disagree with the King in the midst of a compliment.

Thorin puffed up with a smirk of his own back at the King.

The table was soon covered in food. Most tables were covered in the typical Woodland staples of leaves and nuts, but the Khazad were pleasantly surprised when their tables were filled with succulently prepared meat, primarily boar, but also some rabbit thrown in here and there. Bilbo gasped on pleasure when his own section of the table was filled with bowls of a variety of forest fruits.

King Thranduil lifted an elegant glass into the air before bring it to his lips, signaling the feast had begun. Soft music played in the background as Woodlander, Khuzd and Pony alike dug into their food.

“What of Shirelings? What are your dwellings like?” Legolas began conversationally.

Bilbo swallowed a mouthful before answering. **“We don’t really have dwellings. We live under the sky. We do have burrows, called smials, that we use to keep our food stores in and in which we might take shelter on rare occasions. But mostly we dwell openly in our orchards.”**

Legolas translated in time to keep the rest of the table in on their conversation.

“And are your kind averse to clothing?” The King asked.

Thorin puffed up defensively, but his mate just giggled. **”We don’t wear clothes. It flattens our curls. Though Dis has tried her best to get me to wear something.”** His casual reply settling his family. 

“What do you do in the winter.” Legolas asked after translating.

**”Our hair grows out into lovely curls when it gets cold. It’s very warm. I’m already sporting a bit of a wave myself.”**

“I undestand your herds are very different from other centaurs.” He king commented as he sipped from his cup.

 **“Ah, yes. Every herd is a family. It consists of a stallion, his mates and his young. There is only one mature stallion per herd. I . . I was very confused when Thorin welcomed me into his herd.”** The pony revealed.

“How can only one stallion take care of a herd?” Thorin voiced his confusion.

**“He doesn’t. The mares take care of their stallion and foals. The stallion is just an overseer really. He manages his portion of the tribal orchards, but it’s the mares and geldings that do the actual work.”**

“Geldings?” Legolas asked for clarification.

 **”I’m a gelding. We’re not considered true stallions nor true mares.”** The pony picked at his fruit while Legolas translated. **”I guess, we’re not stallion enough to be stallions but too stallion to be mares.”**

Thorin and Dis shared a discreet glance after Legolas shared the translation. 

“I would think that having such versatile members among your race would be a boon. After all, there must be no shortage of foals among your people. Yet, it seems that geldings are not highly regarderded.” Legolas voiced his confusion carefully not wanting to offend.

**”It’s a bit hard to explain. Geldings are vital to our culture and survival, yet they aren’t ‘well regarded,’ as you put. True stallions are the minority and hold the highest status among our people. Mares and geldings are about even in the population, but mares are like a status symbol for stallions, so are preferred over geldings. But every young stallion’s first mate is a gelding because the geldings are the workers and no mare will mate a stallion who doesn’t have at least one gelding to tend to her. The geldings also act as back-up stallions. If anything happens to the stallion or he simply doesn’t feel like . . ‘tending’ to one of his mares, the geldings will fill in. Geldings are the true herd caretakers really and thus tend to the survival of the race as a whole.”**

Nearly the whole table was staring by the time Legolas finished translating.

“No wonder you wished to escape. To be so important and yet undervalued. It’s a wonder so few of your kind wonder out.” Dis was clearly offended on his behalf. 

Bilbo just chuckled. **”It’s not as bad as it sounds. At least not for most of us. We are raised to understand our duties and expectations and, honestly, most Shirelings are too complacent to rebel or strive for anything different. Being chosen by a stallion to enter and tend to his herd is considered the highest honor for many geldings, even if there is no real affection involved. I might have stayed myself if my circumstances weren’t so . . complicated.”**

“How so?” Thorin was eager to learn more about his mate while a translator was available.

 **”Well, my parents were . . kind of . . different, by Shireling standards. My father never took a gelding mate. He only had one mare, my mother. It was scandalous that he would only keep one mate and not add a gelding to serve her. She was from the Took tribe, wild and free, and father loved her so much he refused to take any other mates. Unfortunately, they were killed by wolves one harsh winter. I was just a foal when it happened.”**

**”My father was the Baggins Tribal chief and my mother was the daughter of the Took Tribal chief. When they died, I couldn’t inherit the chieftain title because I was a gelding, but I did inherit both of their land shares, even though I couldn’t properly own it, also beacuse I was a gelding. It was all very complicated, Shirelings never have just one foal, you see. But it was eventually decided that whoever took me as a mate would receive my inheritance. At which point almost every stallion from my parent tribes, and some from others, started offering me a place in their herds.”**

**“Well, as foolish as it sounded, I had always dreamed of being able to mate for love, like my parents did, and I told them I didn’t want to join any of their herds. But, then the chieftains decided that I would have to mate so that the land shares issue could be cleared up and if I wouldn’t accept any offers the chieftains would decide for me. I knew there were other centaurs living nearby somewhere, so I packed up some fruit preserves and left the Shire.”** He finished with a big bite of fruit.

“And that’s when you were captured by smugglers.” Thorin added, still reeling from all the new information. He rubbed at his beard in awe. Bilbo was a prince. The son of one Lead and the grandson of another. And the wolves, it made sense why the pony would fear them so much. And how could his people treat one of their own princes with such disregard? 

“Yes.” Bilbo replied, pulling Thorin back out of his thoughts. “But, it fine. I found you.” He smiled cheerfully at his stallion. 

Thorin couldn’t help but return the grin and leaned over to nuzzle his little love. Bilbo’s people didnt deserve to have him. Thorin would make sure he knew he was treasured daily.

“And are you a bearer then? I would assume your ‘geldings’ are capable of both sireing and bearing. Is it your intent to bear for the line of Durin now?” The Woodland king questioned a bit loftily. 

Bilbo’s countenance fell at the question and Thorin squeeezed him reassuringly, sending the the king a glare. This was supposed to be a distraction for his mate, not a reminder. 

**”I can bear.”** Bilbo finally answered to avoid being impolite. 

“Oh, was it offensive. I just assumed that’s why you mated him in the first place.” The Wood King riled up the Lead Stallion. 

“It is offensive to suggested I mated him for what he could give rather than who he was!” Thorin replied hotly.

“I had a foal.” Bilbo interrupted quietly before the situation could escalate. “But . . lost it.”

Instantly, the fight left both leaders. Thorin tugged his mate a little closer to offer comfort and support.

“I am sorry for your loss.” Legolas was the first to break he silence. “I was under the impression that you have not been with the herd long.”

“It happened this past week.” Dis spared the pony the response but sipped at her glass to avoid having to reveal anymore.

The prince’s face crumpled in sympathy. “I am so sorry.” 

“I as well. You have my deepest condolences.” King Thranduil added to the great surprise of most of the table. “My people live long, far longer than other centuars, but our young are few and far between. To lose a foal is a great tragedy.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo responded as his family all but gaped at the King. **”I-I knew it wouldn’t make it, but it still hurts, you know.”**

“Were there difficulties? My people have superior healing skills.” The King all but offered their services.”

 **”No, no problems. I just . . just don’t have enough reserves . . to support a foal. Shirelings typically carry a comfortable layer of reserves for bearing. There’s not much fruit on the plains.”** He blushed as if revealing a great failing of his own.

After hearing the quiet translation, Thorin wrapped an arm around his mate and murmured comforting reassurences into his ear. 

The king finally dropped the subject and the conversation turned to more pleasant things. They talked about the king’s beautiful forest, of course, and about Bilbo’s goats, the orchards of his home and things that could be made of milk and fruit. Bilbo practically dominated the king’s attention and the king seemed to become more and more openly interested in the little pony.

Despite his underlying jealousy of the king receiving so much of Bilbo’s attention, Thorin tolerated it well, grateful for a distraction for his mate. 

Legolas was explaining the different kinds of leaves that the Woodlanders grew and ate when the king summoned over a serving Woodlander before sending her away again.

“I have noticed that you are a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to sweet foods. Perhaps you would like to taste one of our delicacies.” Just as the king finished, the Woodlander returned and placed a small bowl of freshly chopped leaf.

Bilbo studied the offerings. It was green, of course, but that was pretty much the end of its similarities with the other leaves at the table. The pieces were thick and spongy and oozed a sweet smelling sap. He picked up a piece and sniffed it.

“It’s called Lembas Leaf. Our people have carefully cultivated it almost since our beginning.” Legolas began to explain with a questioning glance to his father as the pony took a bite. “We’ve developed it using the finest conditions and a little bit of magic. It is so full of nutrients that a single bite will fill the stomach of a . .”

Bilbo scraped the inside of the bowl with a piece of fruit to gather the last drops of the sweet sap and popped it into his mouth as he turned to the prince. “A what?”

The whole table stared. Even the Khazad knew of the magical properties of the open secret that was the Lembas Leaf.

When Bilbo didn’t get a reply he turned back to his bowl, eyeing it as if he hoped it would magically refill itself. **“It’s amazing! It has a distinct earthy taste, like a leaf, but it is sweet and succulent like a fruit. The sap is perfect, not too runny and not too sticky, and it’s far more filling than any fruit I’ve ever eaten. If Shirelings could cultivate something like this, we might only have to eat seven or eight times a day!”**

Legolas shook himself from his shock when the rest of the table turned to him for a translation. By the time he finished, they were all staring at the pony again. 

The king was the fastest to recover. “Would you care for another bowl?” He said signaling to one of the serving centaurs.

“Yes, please!” Bilbo responded enthusiastically. 

Bilbo plowed through three more bowls before he stopped accepting the offer for more. Though it turned out it wasn’t because he was full but because he was ready for a change in flavor and he continued eating from the other fruits that had been provided.

The others gradually went back to eating their own food, still marveling at the pony’s appetite. By the time Bilbo did stop eating, every one else had been long done and had simply filled up the time with conversation.

When Bilbo started to droop tiredly, King Thranduil called an end to the feast. He escorted the Khuzd party to the entrance arch personally, bidding the pony goodbye with an invitation to visit his halls again the next time they passed through. 

Thorin didn’t even seem to care that Thranduil only had eyes for his mate. For the first time in a long time, Bilbo’s stomach was full and satisfied. And Thorin had the king to thank for that. If he still stuck close to his pony and loomed threateningly, well, he was still his mate.

The remaining fruit that Bilbo hadn’t eaten was sent home with him, as well as all the meat that went uneaten. The king had addressed Bilbo when he offered it, and, though Bilbo was confused at having it offered to him, he readily accepted it for his herd’s sake.

The Woodland guards escorted them back to their camp without incident and Bilbo was practically sleep walking by the time they made it back. Thorin guided him back to their tent and settled him in for the night. 

He settled down next to his mate. Now he just had to figure out how to convince King Thranduil to allow them to trade for some of that Lembas Leaf. Even if the King allowed it, they probably wouldn’t be able to afford much, but every little bit would help. According to rumor, the Leaves would remain fresh for months as long as they weren’t cut or bruised. It would go much farther than any fruit they could find.

_~Legolas~_

Legolas returned to his father in the throne room after seeing the Khazad safely back to their camp. “They have returned safely, Father.”

The king stared at his glass in thought, making no indication that he had heard his son. Just as Legolas was about to leave his father to his thoughts, the king spoke up.

“He will not survive the winter, much less any foal he may conceive.”

Legolas turned to face his father in confusion. “But you invited him back next fall.”

“It is generally considered impolite to speak to someone of their impending death.” The king retorted blandly.

Legolas nodded in understanding. “It’s a shame. I feel that both we and the Khazad could have benefitted greatly from his input.” He stated gravely.

“Indeed. I much desired to taste Shireling sweet wine.” The king remarked mock mournfully. 

Legolas eyed his father. He was clearly up to something.

“I don’t believe we’ve offered a mating gift to the newlymates, have we?” The king changed the subject after seeming to shake himself from his thoughts. 

“No, we haven’t.” A smirk was beginning to form on the prince’s face. Of course his father would need an excuse.

“He _is_ the Lead Stallion's mate. I suppose it would be good for our continued relations to offer him a congratulatory gift.” His father drawled as if he wasn’t all that interested. 

Legolas’s smirk was fully there now. “I agree.”

“Well, see to it then. I’m sure you know what would be most appropriate.” He dismisses his son with a wave.

Legolas marched out of the throne room with a smile. 


	15. Salvation

Several days after the feast, Bilbo sat in the field among his goats, eating the last of his fruit that had been left over. He had been blissfully content after the feast and had slept better than he had in a long while that night. Unfortunately, it hadn’t lasted long and the rumbling and hunger pains started again the next day. 

He sighed as he took another bite. It had almost felt strange to be full, he was so used to being hungry these days. But the Lembas Leaf that the king had shared with him had been amazingly filling. He wondered if there was any way to get a Lembas Tree from them. Probably not. It must be jealously guarded as a part of their culture.

He thought about trying to cultivate some fruit with Lembas qualities, but the Woodlanders had spent ages cultivating the Lembas and the Prince had mentioned something about magic being involved. Besides, Bilbo would have to start with a wild fruit as he didn’t even have access to his own people’s specially cultivated fruit.

He sighed again. It was probably hopeless. He was doing his best to stay optimistic but he wasn’t a fool. As nutritious as it was, he couldn’t live on the goat milk alone. Well, maybe if he drank it all, but then he would be taking away from the herd and they needed to eat too. Besides, it wasn’t _that_ good.

No, Bilbo couldn’t think of a solution. As morbid as it sounded, he needed to be prepared not to make it through the winter. He would need to make sure his herd knew everything they needed to raise the goats. 

His heart sank as he thought of Thorin. He had gone through so much since leaving the Shire, but he didn’t regret any of it because he wouldn’t have ever met his mate if he hadn’t ended up where he did. 

No, his biggest regrets would be leaving Thorin, of course, and failing to give him a foal. Though Khazad mated for life, they could re-mate after the death their mate's death, but Thorin didn’t seem like the type to do so. Perhaps choosing to mate the stallion was selfish, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret that either.

And what about him? Was he to suffer a slow death of starvation? He paled at the thought. Starvation was a thing of Shireling nightmares and scary stories designed to motivate geldings to work harder.

Bilbo slapped his cheeks in rebuke. Thinking like this was depressing! He wouldn’t give up until he was dead. Until then, he would think positively. After all, it was only early fall. Many fruits ripened in the fall, he just had to find them along the road.

He pushed himself up to his feet with determination, spurred on by the sting in his cheeks. He resolved to stay positive and hopeful, if only for his mate’s sake, but he couldn’t seem to banish the doubts and fears in the back of his mind.

Seeing movement in the corner of his eye, he swiveled around. He had been more cautious and aware of his surroundings since the snake. It was just the most recent hunting party returning with their kill. He started to relax until he recognized the light coloring of one of the stallions. 

No one had told him directly that Frerin had been the one responsible for the snake, but he had heard enough whispers and implications to make the deduction. He watched the stallion uneasily as the party made their way through the field. 

Just as the stallions were passing by, Frerin turned his head and met his gaze. Bilbo shivered at the hostility in his eyes. His hooves itched with the need to flee and he shifted on his feet nervously. 

When Frerin finally turned away, Bilbo breathed in relief. He didn’t understand why the stallion was so hostile to him and he didn’t want to be the cause of tension within his new family. He just didn’t know what he could do about it. Obviously approaching the stallion was out of the question. All he could do was stay away and let Thorin and Dis deal with him. 

_~Thorin~_

Thorin wandered through the camp, overseeing its take down. His direct involvement wasn’t as necessary as before, but his presence still helped to ward off problems. Their business with the Woodlanders was done, so they would be moving on tomorrow morning. Since they couldn’t hunt in the Greenwood, they would have to make good time getting to the south where there would be more hunting range.

Thorin was barely paying attention to the activity around him. He was still racking his brain for a way to convince the Woodlanders to share some of their Lembas leaf. He was coming up completely blank and it was almost too late. How could he convince them to share something so sacred to their heritage? It would be on par to the Woodlanders asking for rights to one of their goldmines. The Khazad would never hear of it.

As his time rapidly ran out his stomach twisted itself into tighter and tighter knots. He was a realist. Despite his hope that they might be able to find something along the road, he knew that the Woodlanders were Bilbo’s last chance of surviving the winter.

He rubbed his hand over his face anxiously. He needed to think of something quickly. He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear Dwalin calling for him until he was only steps away.

“What is it?” His mind reluctantly snapped back to the hear and now.

“The scouts say there’s a small caravan headed this way from the Greenwood.” 

Thorin’s brows furrowed in confusion. Their business with the Woodlanders was already done. “What kind of caravan?” 

Dwalin shrugged. “Guards. A wagon. The prince seems to be leading them.”

A flicker of hope came to life deep in his chest, but he pushed it down before it could grow. “Then I should be there to greet them.” He headed towards the field that the Woodlanders would be passing through to reach their camp and Dwalin fell in behind him. Somewhere along the way he picked up Dis and Balin and the four of them waited to greet the caravan in the field. 

As the caravan steadily approached, Bilbo seemed to suddenly appear by his side. “What happen?”

Thorin tucked the pony into his side. “We don't know yet.”

Finally, the small caravan came to a stop several yards away. “Greetings, Lead Stallion Thorin. I ask that you forgive our intrusion this afternoon as I know you must be busy with preparations.” Prince Legolas greeted.

“There is nothing to forgive, Prince Legolas. We welcome you. What brings you here today?” Thorin was doing his best to contain the small flicker of hope that seemed to want to erupt into a wildfire at the sight of the wagon.

“I bring a gift.” The prince announced cheerfully sending a significant glance to the pony.

_~Legolas~_

Legolas’s smile wavered a bit as he pulled out his father’s missive. He had been hoping his father would let him take care of everything and had been dismayed when he was handed the letter with strict instructions to not open it before he was to read it before the Lead. He opened it slowly, hoping desperately that his father hadn’t written anything too insulting.

After stalling for as long as was polite, he began to read the letter. “Greetings, Bilbo, mate of Lead Stallion Thorin of Durin.” Legolas cringed, his father hadn’t even bothered to address the Lead Stallion.

“I wish to officially congratulate you on your recent mating and offer you this mating gift in honor of our new friendship. We happened to have an excess of supply and, as you seemed quite taken with our prized Lembas Leaf, I am sending you this meager gift.” Legolas fought down a smirk. ‘Excess’, indeed. The King had ordered an entire storeroom of the leaf to be emptied when he found out Legolas had only taken about a third of it.

“After taking your appetite into account, I believe this will be enough to see you through the winter. These leaves are meant for your personal consumption only. A thank you gift of your specialty sweet wine, would not go unappreciated.” He cringed. 

“I have only one . . condition.” Legolas paused in attempt to delay the inevitable. “I absolutely insist on being informed of any new or expected foals upon your return to the area as it would be fair to say that their very existence will be a result of my most generous gift.” He glanced up to gauge the reaction to the letter, but the entire greeting party was simply staring at him stunned.

He continued. “I wish you safe travels on your migration and look forward to having you in my halls again next fall. Sincerely, King Thranduil. . . Oh, yes. Next time, Thorin, just send your mate for negotiations. No need to attend personally. He will receive our utmost care.” Legolas paled a bit at the casual use of the Lead’s name and dismissal but, when he looked up, the Khuzd centaurs were still to stunned to care. 

Legolas let out a small sigh of relief. The letter could have been far worse.

_~Thorin~_

A few moments passed in silence and Dis was the first to recover her wits. “King Thranduil is . . is _gifting_ all this . . this Lembas . . to Bilbo?” She asked haltingly, seemingly hesitant to believe such a thing.

“Yes. I prepared the gift myself. There are several crates of fresh leaves, but the majority of them are dried for better preservation. You need only let them soak in water or other drinkable liquid for them to return to their succulent state.” Legolas answered.

Thorin was gobsmacked. This was so beyond anything he had even dared to hope for. The relief was almost overwhelming, like a massive weight had been lifted from his chest. Bilbo would make it. He wouldn’t have to watch his mate slowly starve to death and be helpless to do anything about it. 

He startled out of his shocked state when Bilbo started laughing beside him. Thorin turned to him in alarm as his laughter neared hysterical. Bilbo was covering most of his face with his hands as he fought to regain control. There was no mirth in his eyes.

Thorin pulled him close and wrapped him in his arms. In the comfort of his stallions arms, Bilbo’s laughter quickly devolved into heart-wrenching sobs as his own relief overwhelmed him. 

Thorin ran his fingers through his hair soothingly as he murmured soft comforts. He shared a quick glance with Dis. Though it seemed obvious now, neither of them had realized just how much weight he had been carrying.

Once Bilbo’s sobs had been reduced to wet sniffles, Thorin turned to address the prince. He was shifting nervously, concerned by the pony’s reaction.

Thorin walked Bilbo over with him as he approached the prince. “You and your king have my and my mate’s eternal gratitude for this most generous gift. It will not be forgotten.”

“Th-thank you.” Bilbo added with a sniffle. “You give King something for me?”

“Of course.” Legolas bent down as he addressed the pony. 

Bilbo lurched forward, quickly closing the gap between them and wrapped his arms around the prince as best as he could. He only barely reached his waist, but the prince had leaned lower reflexively when Bilbo had grabbed him. 

“Give him thanks, please.” 

The Prince stared down at the pony speechless. “Of-of course.” He reassured before glancing back up at the Lead Stallion. Thorin didn’t look pleased, but he wasn’t moving to interfere either. 

Legolas gently pried the pony off, again offering his assurances that he would relay the message. The wagon was handed over to the Khuzd centaurs and goodbyes were made again, mostly between Bilbo and the Woodlanders.

Before they had even gotten the wagon back to camp, Thorin had fished out several leaves for Bilbo who ate as they walked, savoring every bite. The wagon was carefully covered and stashed with the other food wagons like precious cargo. Thorin would make sure nothing happened to his mate’s chances for surviving this winter. He had Dwalin post extra guards around the food wagons.

Later that evening, Thorin and his advisers were looking over the letter again. “I’m surprised he didn’t claim rights to yer firstborn seein’ as he’s already taken credit for it.” Dwalin commented sourly.

Balin snatched the letter from his hands. “King Thranduil has put us vastly in his debt. Short of emptying one of our gold stores, there is no way we can repay him. We will be working to repair this deficiency for decades.” Balin sounded as if the king had sent them an insult rather than a gift.

“Are you saying we should not have accepted?” Thorin challenged lowly. He would accept a lifetime of debt if it spared his mate and future foals.

“Of course not.” Balin replied shortly. “I am merely saying he has found an edge against us that we cannot counter.”

“I disagree.” Dis interjected calmly as she looked over the letter.

“And why is that?” Balin asked respectfully despite his irritation.

“Anyone who reads this can see that the gift was not to our herd or even to its Lead. Thorin isn’t even addressed. He’s completely ignored, only appearing as an after thought at the end.”

“Yes, King Thranduil is prone to petty insults. There’s nothing new about that.” 

“What you see as an insult, I see as an out.” 

“How so?” Thorin knew Dis’s manipulative mind had picked up on some kind of loophole. 

“The letter is addressed to Bilbo. It even says in the letter the the gift is for Bilbo _only_. The gift was not made to the herd or even you as the Lead. It was a gift of friendship, for Bilbo, no strings attached.” She explained as she rolled up the letter. “As a herd, we have no obligation to reciprocate. That is Bilbo’s responsibility and Thranduil even goes so far as to tell him what he wants.” She huffed a laugh smacking his chest with the rolled up paper. 

Thorin took the letter and reread it with furrowed brows. She was right. The letter made no mention of the herd as a whole or even of himself in regards to the gift. Only Bilbo was addressed, effectively eliminating the herd’s responsibility to even acknowledge the gift. 

“I believe you’re right.” He finally admitted.

Balin claimed the letter again to reread it. “We own him nothing?” He asked rhetorically. Now that Dis had pointed it out, it was clearly the case.

Dis just shrugged with a smirk. No doubt she was already making plans to use Bilbo as an ambassador to the Woodlanders in the future.

Thorin shook his head, still in awe of the gift and now their lack of obligation towards it. He could almost learn to tolerate the pompous tree-shagger if he was going to treat Bilbo this well. Then again, why would the self-important arse go so far for someone like Bilbo anyway.

“He wants to see the foals.” Dis said as if she had read his mind.

“Why?” Thorin asked baffled.

She looked at him like he was being dense on purpose. “He’s adorable, Thorin. His foals will be even more so. They’ll be doubly adorable. Even that pompous arse can see that. Besides he’s new and exotic. You know how the Woodlanders are about new things. He might as well have said it outright that he wants to see them.” She scoffed at the king’s Poorly veiled intentions.

Thorin was still baffled. Could it be that simple.

“Regardless, we shall not question this gift.” Balin’s mood had much improved since his realization.

“No, of course not.” Thorin agreed distractedly. 

By the time the sun went down, the camp was fully taken down and they were back to sleeping within the circle of wagons. Thorin sought out his mate and settled down next to him just as Bilbo was finishing another Lembas Leaf as a bedtime snack.

Thorin watched as he sucked the last of the sap off his fingers in contentment. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” Bilbo grinned wide at his stallion, nuzzling him with a nicker when he was sure he was clean.

Thorin returned the loving caress. He ran his fingers through his mate’s curly hair and held him close. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice how stressed you were. I realize you must have been . . scared.” His own admission only enhanced the guilt he felt.

Bilbo studied him. “No need be sorry. You . . You no like king. You be nice for me.” He commandeered one of Thorin’s hands to entwine their fingers together.

Thorin’s brows furrowed as he tried to put together what the pony meant. Did he know the Thorin didn’t get along with the king or even that Khuzd and Woodlanders didn’t get along much in general? Did he realize that they were trying to find a solution to feeding him from the Woodlanders?

“Dis said you no like king, but he might have food I eat.” Bilbo must have read his confusion.

“She’s right.” Thorin admitted. “I think he’s arrogant and pompous.”

Bilbo’s head tilted in confusion at the rarely used descriptions, making Thorin chuckle. “But I would put up with him every day if it meant you would be happy and healthy.” Thorin nuzzled into his love’s hair. 

Bilbo beamed up at him and shuffled closer to cuddle. 

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo snuggled into his stallions arms. Just this morning he had been despairing and anticipating his own death. Within only hours, all that tension, fear, and dread had been lifted off of him. King Thranduil had sent him enough to see him through the winter, even without anything else to eat. Between the Lembas, the milk, and any fruit he could find along the way, he might even be able to put his weight back on. And, if he was getting enough to build his reserves back up, then he was getting enough to support a foal. 

Thranduil hadn’t just spared him from a slow painful death, he had returned to him his life and all the endless possibilities that came with it. Bilbo smiled to himself with intent. Thranduil was going to get that wine . . and a foal announcement. 

He looked up at the feel of a cold gaze. Almost instinctively, his eyes met the source of stare across the way. Frerin was glaring at him with barely concealed disgust. Bilbo shivered as the cold stare sent chills down his spine. 

Thorin tucked him in closer, misinterpreting his mate’s chill as being from the cool night air. Bilbo broke the mutual stare to give his stallion a thankful smile. By the time he looked back, Frerin was gone. 

A sliver of fear buried itself into his gut. Not everything had been fixed today.

_~Legolas~_

Legolas returned to the throne room to give his report. “I relayed your message as you asked.” He announced as he approached. 

The king lounged on his throne pallet. “And? Did they weep before my generosity? Perhaps sing the praises of the mighty King Thranduil of the Greenwood realm?” He asked haughtily. “Did that Lead finally acknowledge my superiority.”

“They send their eternal gratitude.” Legolas smirked as he continued his approach.

“Gratitude?!” Thranduil stomped off his throne to pace. “They should be offering me their firstborn, for without my gift there would never be one and all I get is their gratitude!?”

“No, that wasn’t all they sent.” Legolas smirked even wider as he walked up to his father.

“Oh? Pray tell, what else did they - “ he cut off mid sentence with an unkingly yelp when Legolas all but tackled him with a hug. “What in my green woods are you doing?” He asked flatly, once he had recovered.

Legolas pulled away with a chuckle. “Bilbo sent you that and his thanks.”

Legolas tried not to snicker as a wide range of emotions played over his father’s usually emotionless face before it resettled on haughty indifference. “Yes, well. I suppose it will have to do.” He sniffed and smoothed out his robes before returning to his throne. “Don’t you have things to do else where?” 

“Yes, Father.” Legolas acknowledged the dismissal. He made his getaway barely containing his snicker as his father sat on his throne with a distracted barely-there smile. It seemed not even the cold King of the Greenwood realm was immune to the pony's charms.


	16. Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy November everyone! I've been really busy so I'll be posting all this week's chapters at once. Enjoy!
> 
> Frerin's profile has been posted. Check it out [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628423/chapters/35243408)
> 
> This month's Sneak Peak Chapter is for a new future work called "Creatures of the Night." Check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/35911077). Summary below. Let me know what you think. ;)
> 
> Creatures of the Night
> 
> Bilbo stays in his tower, alone and so hidden away that even most of his own coven don’t know he’s there, condemned to live out his days in solitary confinement for no other reason than that he exists. He yearns for freedom, for the world outside his small window and for something else that seems to tug at his very soul. Resigned to his fate, he consoles himself with dreams of freedom and flight, until one day he is found by the most unlikely trespassers. Jumping at the offer of freedom, he faces his fears and the unknown as he ventures out to discover the world outside his window and maybe find a place he finally belongs in the process.
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin, Shifter AU, A/B/O Dynamics

They traveled south, the river on one side and the Greenwood on the other, for two weeks before reaching their next stopping point. Beyond this point, they would be following the river through eastern most tip of the Greenwood. Though they had been granted permission to hunt in the woods that extended beyond the river, it was generally a span of the journey that they did their best to pass though quickly.

Being surrounded by woods on both sides wasn’t particularly comfortable or welcome by Khazad, so they had a stopping point right before and right after and didn’t linger on the wooded path.

Now at the first stopping point, the goal was to rest and restock as much as possible as there would be very few stops and no hunting until they reached the next camp spot. Every stallion who wasn’t on guard duty was out hunting. Even Fili and Kili, though barely considered adults, were either hunting or guarding at all times. 

The mares and foal on the other hand, were encouraged to rest and enjoy this time as the hard pace they would be setting in their next stretch would effect them the most negatively. 

Thorin watched, currently on guard duty himself, as his mate splashed around in the river playfully with Gimli, who, though still a colt, was already taller than Bilbo. A pleased grin stole over his face. Only two weeks after receiving the Lembas leaves and the pony was already significantly improved. 

He had been gaining weight steadily, his ribs only barely perceivable now. His hair had grown out softer and thicker and he was already sporting tight little curls over most of his body while most of his upper torso was covered in a soft, downy wave. His mane and tail had grown out several inches, growing much faster now that he was eating enough, and Thorin suspected he would have to start braiding those curly locks soon. 

His mood and energy had also improved dramatically. He could often be found playing and frolicking with the colts, as he was now, and almost always wore a smile. His libido had also boosted into overdrive along with his heat scent.

The scent was becoming so strong that the guarding stallions had to keep putting more and more distance between them and their charge just to keep their own heads on straight, which is why Thorin had been doing so much guard duty lately. And his libido, he must have tempered it while on the move because ever since they had set up camp, his pony mate had been seeking him out several times a day for a mount, not that Thorin would complain. He was more than happy to satisfy his little love. 

Speaking of, Thorin grinned as Bilbo came bounding out of the water with a laugh. Sharli had wrestled little Gimli down for a proper grooming, freeing up the pony. He shook briefly to dislodge most of the water before prancing up to his stallion with a grin full of intent. 

He walked past him with a low nicker as he rubbed his still damp flank down Thorin’s side with a seductive flick of his tail, trailing a hand across Thorin’s back and over his croup. Thorin rubbed a hand down his mats’s rump as he passed him and swiveled to follow. 

By the time he got turned around, Bilbo was already waiting, stance wide and tail lifted to the side accommodatingly. Thorin wasted no time in giving his mate exactly what he wanted. 

_~Frerin~_

Frerin was getting tired. He had been taking almost non-stop hunting duties just to get away from that infuriatingly, wonderfully tempting scent that had practically permeated the whole camp, but was currently standing on guard duty. 

He was no weak stallion, but even he needed a break. He didn’t know how the other stallions were coping, though he had noticed that hunting duty had become the most sought after job lately. 

And that scent! He loved it as much as he hated it. He had never smelled anything as powerful and sweet and he had been around plenty of mares, in and out of season. It was so overwhelming it made him forget how much he resented the upstaging little thing and just made him _want_! Which was even worse because he could never _have_.

Because the pony was his _brother’s_ mate and Frerin had no doubt that Thorin would kill any stallion who dared to touch his mare. He rubbed at his face tiredly. How could one weird little pony be so infuriating? 

Sure, Frerin was stallion enough to admit that the snake prank had probably been a bad idea, considering the herd’s state at the time and all. But how was he supposed to know the blasted pony was carrying if no one told him about it?! Did they just expect him to show up and know everything that happened while he was gone? And who's ever heard of such a thing as a stallion mare? And for a mare that's part stallion to be more fertile than a normal mare is just ridiculous!

And how did _Thorin_ win the pony's affection anyway? His uptight, duty-first brother who wasn't even looking for a mare, had turned his nose up at every mare that he met, still landed himself an adorable (if you were into that kinda thing) and fertile mate. Very fertile, if that scent was anything to go by, and the thing had practically fallen into his brother's arms. Why did his brother always get the best of everything?!

Frerin had been searching for years for a mare. Traveling out every summer to try his luck in other herds, and still he hadn't found one. Thorin may have inherited the Lead position, but Frerin carried the Lead family color. He had even heard whispers in other tribes that he should have been the one to become the Lead as Thorin's genes were unfit for the position. So why did his brother still always get everything Frerin wanted!? Without even trying?!

Maybe Dis was right. Maybe things would have been different if he had stayed with the herd. Maybe the fertile little pony would be his and not his brother's. He only realized he was staring at the pony when said pony turned from tending his goats to meet his gaze. Frerin immediately scowled and looked away but not before noticing the pony's apprehensive shifting. 

He growled to himself. He was surprised Thorin hadn't gotten after him yet. He wasn't trying to scare the pony. Though he would admit at first he was pretty resentful, what with all the attention the pony seemed to get all the time, (even the bloody King of the Greenwood was pampering him!), but lately his gaze seemed to always gravitate to the weird little thing. 

It was that blasted heat scent! Half of the time, Frerin didn't even know what he was feeling. The only emotion he could be absolutely sure of right now was frustration. Everything else seemed to be getting all jumbled up with desire thanks to the pony's blasted season, which was lasting far too long. Why was it so long?! 

Frerin sighed and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands. It was so much easier to just resent the little thing. Why did he have to notice all the cute and endearing things about him (cause of the heat scent, that's why!). He was, after all, a very attractive pony, and good natured, and cheerful and intelligent . . . his brother really did get the best of everything.

He stomped and snorted, frustrated by his own wistfulness. By Mahal, he hoped Thorin would knock the pony up soon so he could actually understand himself again! Fortunately, if the pony was even half as fertile as he smelled, it wouldn't take very long considering Thorin had been mounting the tiny thing several times a day (much to Frerin's annoyance. His brother didn't have to flaunt it quite so much.). Frerin just hoped it happened before he went insane.

_~Thorin~_

Thorin stood with his advisers as Dwalin and Balin gave their reports for the evening. Balin went over supplies and resources, filling Thorin in on what they were shortest on and what was going to need done before they broke camp to head to their next stopping point. Dwalin updated him on the hunting parties and guard rotations. "I've never had so many stallions beggin' to be put on hunting duty." 

"I can't say as I blame them. Bilbo's heat scent is far stronger than last time." Balin sympathized. 

"Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about that." Thorin understood their plight, but they would have to wait it out.

"Ye could bugger 'im more." Dwalin crudely suggested.

"Anymore and I would have to quit doing anything else."

"Naw. You're pretty much the only one who can guard him now. Gives ye plenty of opportunity."

"And I take it whenever he provides it, but I still have other responsibilities." 

Balin chuckled. "I don't think anyone would blame ye if ye chose to focus your attention on your mate." 

"One might." Dwalin growled lowly.

"Frerin?" Thorin had been waiting for something to happen. "Has he done something?"

"Not yet, but 'e's been sending some nasty looks at yer mate. I've been letting 'im take as much hunting duty as 'e wants, like you said, but 'e can't be out all the time. He's on guard duty today. I try ta keep an eye on him when 'e's in the camp." 

"Do I need to deal with him?"

"I don't think that's necessary." Balin assured. "He's not been exposed to Bilbo's heat scent before and it's particularly strong for a fertile mare. He’s probably more confused than anything at this point. We should keep an eye on him, but space is what he needs." 

Thorin rubbed a hand down his face. "I don't know what to do with him, Balin."

"Give him time. He's not a bad stallion. A little spoiled and immature, perhaps, but not bad. He'll come around." Balin reassured. 

Thorin sighed. They had been close as foals, but a tension had settled between them when Thorin took his place as Lead and they had never been the same. Thorin took his responsibilities to his herd very seriously, he didn't understand why Frerin didn't. 

Thorin was distracted from his thoughts by a small warm body rubbing down the length of his. His ears perked up in attention when Bilbo winked and nickered lowly as he walked by. He sauntered towards their shared tent, swishing his tail provocatively as he went.

All three stallions stared at the retreating form until his speckled rump disappeared into Thorin’s tent. “Damn, you lucky son of a-.” Dwalin grumbled under his breath.

Balin plucked the supply charts out of Thorin’s hands before he could drop them. “I believe you’ve been summoned.” 

”For Mahal’s sake, foal him before the rest of us lose our bloody minds!” Dwalin growled grumpily. 

Thorin looked down at his hands wondering when they became empty. “I’m just going to, um” His addled brain tried to explain as his hooves were already taking him were he wanted to go.

“Yes, yes. Go on.” Balin waved him away.

“I need a cold dip.” Dwalin turned to head to the river. 

“I think I’ll be joining you for it.” His brother agreed.

Thorin picked up speed as he trotted over to his tent and stepped inside almost cautiously in his anticipation. What he found made his tail twitch in excitement. 

Bilbo was waiting for him with his front legs planted firmly on the low table at the tent’s center. The new elevation made him slightly taller than Thorin and he nickered low in invitation as he flicked his tail.

Bilbo watched as Thorin walked over, studying the new position. They had never tried anything like this before and he gave Bilbo’s rump a shove to test his stance in the precarious position. When Bilbo barely moved, Thorin ran his hands down his mate’s flanks and over his rump appreciatively. 

_~smut~_

The pony quivered under his mate’s caresses and raised his tail in encouragement. Thorin took a moment to line himself up before he carefully reared and mounted his mate. Bilbo nickered and shifted with his stallion as they settled into the new position. Thorin pressed into his mate, seeking as much depth as possible but was limited in his movement by the stance.

Despite its restrictions, it became one of Thorin’s favorite positions almost instantly. With Bilbo’s front end so elevated, Thorin could now completely wrap his arms around his mate’s upper torso and touch him freely. If he bent over just a bit, he could even reach the pony’s ears and neck with his mouth. 

As typical thrusting was out of the question with his limited movement, he settled for a deep rocking grind as he ran his hands over as much of his pony he could reach. Bilbo groaned and reached back to bury his hands in his stallion’s hair, yanking a braid until Thorin obligingly leaned down to nibble on his ear. 

Bilbo shivered and came with a soft whinny under his stallion’s questing hands. Thorin continued to grind into him even as he felt his mate pulse around him, making him groan with pleasure. Thorin nipped his way down his mate’s ears, stopping to breath in the wonderful scent that wafted off the glands behind his ear before he turned his attention to Bilbo’s neck. 

Thorin mouthed at his neck as he messaged and pinched at the pony’s nipples. Bilbo nickered excitedly through short breaths as his tension built up for another release. He moaned, erupting into a whinny as he came again. 

Thorin held him tight as the pony tried to buck under him, never slowing in his short grinding thrusts. Bilbo leaned back into him heavily, panting from his second orgasm. Thorin nibbled at his ear again, dragging his nails gently across his lover’s chest and stomach as he tried to work him up one last time. 

“Come on, Love. One more time.” He rumbled into his ear when all he got was a tired whimper. 

Bilbo whimpered again but shifted under him seeking a new angle. He groaned as he lifted a hind leg, causing his stallion to grind in just the right spot. He propped his hoof up on the table to hold the angle and moaned as Thorin ground into him.

Thorin wrapped his arms around his mate and held him tight. He buried his nose behind Bilbo’s ear and let himself rut, grinding harder and faster as his own excitement peaked. Bilbo laid his arms over his stallion's, weaving his fingers between Thorin’s and clinging to him.

Bilbo panted and his ears drooped as he tried to hold out until his stallion came. His breaths got shorter until he couldn’t hold it any longer and he squealed and arched as he peaked even harder than the previous two times. 

Thorin nickered low and deep as his mate’s climax pushed him over the edge into his own. He thrust in as deep as he could and gripped his mate’s barrel with his forelegs tighter as his release pulsated through him. 

_~end~_

They rested as they were for a few moments before Thorin pressed a kiss to his lover’s temple and carefully dismounted. Bilbo stepped off the table and shakily walked over to their bed pallet before collapsing into a boneless heap with a satisfied sigh. 

Thorin followed him with a soft chuckle and lay down beside him, digging a brush out of Bilbo’s grooming pack before lovingly tending to the tight waves of curls adorning his beloved mate. “You’ve been very. . eager, lately . . Not that I’m complaining.” 

Bilbo sighed contently as his stallion brushed him and pulled out a Lembas leaf from his stash for a bedtime snack. “This is normal.”

Thorin paused in his stroke. "Seriously?"

Bilbo nodded. "I too weak before. Most mares and many . . like me like this. My people very . . fertile."

"I'm beginning to see that." No wonder the stallions didn't work. They must have their hands full satisfying so many mates. "There must be many foals."

"Yes. Many foals. Big families." Bilbo sighed under his stallions ministrations as he finished his leaf. 

"Do you miss it?" Thorin wondered out load.

Bilbo turned to study him before laying down. "Sometimes. Is where I grew up . . have friends. But I happy most with you and new family. I stay with you." 

Thorin nodded in silence. He didn't begrudge his mate's memories of his childhood home. He had many fond memories of his own that he could never return to. But it was reassuring to hear it from Bilbo's own mouth that he was happy here with Thorin and his herd. 

When he had finished brushing one side, he smacked Bilbo's rump softly and the pony rolled over to give him access to the other side, sighing in contentment as he snuggled up close to his stallion.

"Has . . Frerin been bothering you." Thorin asked after a short silence.

Bilbo's eyes shot open and he considered Thorin quietly as his ears swiveled uncertainly. 

The response was enough to tell Thorin what he needed to know. "What has he done?" He asked darkly.

"Nothing!" Bilbo blurted too quickly, startling Thorin.

He gave the pony a stern look. "Bilbo. You would tell me if he did?"

Bilbo chewed on his lip but nodded hesitantly. "He not do anything. Just looks . . angry looks. But he not come near me."

"If he scares you, tell me and I will talk to him."

Bilbo nodded softly. Thorin didn't push but knew that Bilbo didn't like being the source of contention between him and his brother. Thorin just had to trust that Bilbo would be wise enough to tell him when it mattered. 

He finished his brushing and quickly readied himself for bed before pulling his mate close and settling into their pallet. He ran his hand across the pony's flank, enjoying the feel of the little curls against his skin. "Your hair is getting longer. I should braid it soon, if you would let me." He ran his fingers through Bilbo's curly hair. It was almost to his shoulders now. 

"Of course." Bilbo answered with a yawn and snuggle even closer.

Thorin nuzzled into his hair with a nicker before placing a kiss there and Bilbo nickered back lazily, already half-asleep. He grabbed a nearby bear skin and threw it over them. The nights were getting chilly and he wouldn't have his little mate getting cold. 

He settled in with the pony already softly snoring away secure in his arms. He wanted to give his brother the benefit of the doubt, he wanted to believe that he was better than scum that would prey on a fertile bearer, but he would never forgive himself if Frerin did something to harm Bilbo that Thorin could have prevented.

He sighed, conflicted. Well, for now he would wait, as Balin advised. Perhaps things would get better once Bilbo's season passed. Besides, he could worry more about it tomorrow. As long as Bilbo was safe in his arms, he didn't need to be concerned about his safety. He tugged his mate just a little bit closer as he let himself relax and drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look! More horsey smut! I figured it's been awhile. XD
> 
> I'm at a good spot to put in some extra scenes so, if anyone has a request, just let me know. :)
> 
> Quick question: Would you prefer if I put most notes at the end (especially links) or does it even matter? If it makes things easier for you, I don't mind putting them at the end, but, if no one really cares, I'll just keep it the way I've been doing it.


	17. Stew

They stayed about a week before packing up and moving on. The wooded stretch they were entering would take about a week and a half if they pushed hard. They would be stopping late every night and starting early every morning and pushing the herd to keep as fast a pace as possible. 

This was actually one of the most stressful stretches of their migration, between passing through unfamiliar terrain and worrying about somehow offending the woodlanders while in their woods. Not that they particularly cared about offending them, they just didn’t like being at a disadvantage when they did it.

The march was made even more tense by the intensity of Bilbo’s heat scent which the stallions could no longer escape while on the road. He was kept practically barricaded between Thorin, Sharli, and Dis in an effort to ward off any unwelcome attention. 

Thorin had to congratulate the other stallions. They had all been exhibiting superb self-control so far, but, now with the constant close proximity, he wasn’t going to risk any of them snapping and touching his mate. 

So they marched in silence, a heavy tension settled over them, desperate to just get out of the woods and into more space. Spurred on by the pressure, they broke through the woods and arrived at their camping spot in just over a week. 

They were all exhausted, little Gimli barely staying on his feet, but they had made it and they could rest. The quickly made camp and spent the rest of that day and the next resting from the grueling trip. 

Just as things started getting back into the normal routine, Bilbo’s season finally ended and the entire herd seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief as the last blanket of tension lifted. As opposed to before, there was no attempt to downplay this pregnancy. 

As Bilbo was happy and still healthily putting on weight, there was no perceivable reason why he wouldn’t be able to carry to term. Of course, there were always accidents and dangers that could pose a threat, but Thorin would do his best to see his mate safe and protected at all times. 

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. Nearly the whole herd, even those who were only planning to stay until the migration ended, seemed to rally around the small pony, offering congratulations and providing extra care and protection whenever possible.

The sight satisfied something deep in Thorin. It meant that Bilbo had been accepted on a significant level, as the Lead’s mate. Despite everything, his differences, his size, the language barrier, Bilbo had proven himself to the herd and been accepted. Not just as another mare, but as _the_ mare, mate to the Lead, bearer of the royal line and caretaker of the herd. 

He wasn’t sure that Bilbo quite understood the depth to which this acceptance ran, but he didn’t figure it mattered. Bilbo was in high spirits, accepting the herd’s offerings gratefully and genuinely pleased to be able to spend time with his stallion friends again. He had nearly tackled Bofur with a hug when the scruffy stallion had sheepishly offered his congratulations. 

Thorin was in too good a mood to even be bothered by it and could only laugh. Bilbo was his and would accept no one else, he had made that very clear at the last camp, and Bofur had been a faithful friend by putting the necessary space between them to keep it that way. 

Bilbo seemed the most pleased by his pregnancy and beamed whenever anyone would mention it, which Thorin couldn’t help but do on a regular basis just to see that smile light up his face. 

Now that his season was over, he usually had at least three, sometimes as many as five, stallions keeping watch over him constantly throughout the day, not out of assigned duty but of their own will. 

Fili and Kili spent most of their time with him, as did Bofur, who, Thorin had all but officially assigned as Bilbo’s personal guard. Balin and Dwalin also took it upon themselves to regularly check on the small pony and the mares took every opportunity to pamper him.

Thorin scanned his eyes over his herd. The effect the small pony had had on them was undeniable. He had brought a greater unity to them than Thorin had ever seen in his herd before. Migration was usually characterized by the inner herd and the seasonal extras. Never before had he seen such blended unity between the two. 

And hope, most importantly Bilbo had brought them hope. Hope in a new renewable food source, hope in improved diplomatic relations with allies, and hope of a larger next generation. 

Bilbo was a vital part of their herd now and he didn’t even seem to realize it. He was just his usual friendly, cheerful self and Thorin couldn’t imagine it any other way.

_~Frerin~_

Frerin marched through the woods on his way back to camp carrying his latest kill. The pony’s heat scent was finally gone, thank Mahal, but he still found himself confused. But at least it wasn’t like before. Mahal! That was torture!

But he was still uncertain about things, so he spent a lot of his time hunting. Fortunately, no one seemed to care. Everyone was more concerned with the pony, as usual, and they all seemed to think he was with foal, though Frerin didn’t see as how they could possibly know that for sure yet.

Not that he had ever had any foals, but he was pretty sure it took several weeks for it to be detectable and it had only been days since the pony’s season ended. But the herd seemed sure of it and they were already doting on him. 

And his brother was the worse. He had never seen Thorin so happy or sappy in, probably, his entire life. And wasn’t that a sobering thought. He couldn’t even remember the last time Thorin had really smiled before the pony, it had to be before he had even become the Lead.

As much as he was trying, he couldn’t really stay all that resentful. Jealous maybe, but not resentful. His brother deserved to be happy and, the more that he learned about the pony, the more he was impressed by the little being. And his cheerfulness was disturbingly infectious. 

Frerin sighed. No, he couldn’t hate or resent the pony any longer, not with the he way he seemed to glow now that he was carrying. But it still didn’t make him feel any better about his own situation. Why couldn’t he find that special mare that lit up his world like the pony did Thorin’s. He had looked so hard and for so long! That was all he ever wanted and Thorin managed to find it without even trying!

He was so lost in his own self pity that he wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings and was nearly run over just as he broke out of the trees. Frerin braced for impact as the other centaur dug his hooves in the ground. When no impact followed, Frerin opened his eyes cautiously. 

His heart skipped a beat when the first thing he saw was a wide pair of soft amber eyes. The pony had skidded to halt not even inches away and stood frozen in shock staring up at him. 

Frerin’s heart thudded in his chest at the unexpected proximity as he stared back, unsure of how to react. Bilbo finally snapped out of his daze and quickly backpedaled, undisguised fear in his eyes. 

“What are you doing here?!” Frerin’s temper flared at the reaction and his own embarrassment of the situation. “You shouldn’t be this close to the woods. If I was a bear, I could have hurt you!”

“If ye was a bear, ye’d be dead.” 

Frerin finally looked past the pony at the sound of the gruff voice. How had he not noticed the pony’s entourage? Fili and Kili stood just behind him and Dwalin and Bofur behind them. Bilbo backed up until he was safe between the two young stallions, who stood protectively over him, and Bofur stepped up to see if he was hurt. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that he shouldn’t be out here on his condition. The woods are dangerous. Does Thorin even know he’s out here?”

“Aye.” Was all Dwalin would answer as he glared down the younger stallion. 

They glared at each other silently for a few moments. “Fine! See if I care if he gets picked off. It’ll be Thorin’s loss, not mine.” He snarked angrily and stomped off towards the camp. 

_~Thorin~_

Thorin ambled through camp, casually overseeing its functions. He had just finished talking with Oin about Bilbo’s pregnancy. Bilbo’s health may have been vastly improving lately, but he still wanted to be aware of and prepared for anything that could go wrong. 

Fortunately, the older healer seemed confident that both Bilbo’s recovery and his pregnancy (as far as he could tell) seemed to be progressing well and gave Thorin some pointers on want to watch for in his pregnant mate and how to care for him in his new condition.

Despite the fact that things seemed to be going well, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Bilbo was healthy and happy and the herd was in a good place, both resource and morale wise, right now, but he still couldn’t shake that little knot of anxiety that seemed to have settled in his gut. 

Said knot tightened when he spotted Dwalin heading towards him with a scowl. “What is it?” He asked before Dwalin had even made it to him, already fearing the worse. 

“Yer mate’s back in the camp, thought you should know.” Dwalin replied gruffly.

Thorin’s tension eased at the information. His mate was still safe and sound, but why was his friend scowling. “But something happened?”

“We ran into Frerin on the edge of the woods. Or rather Bilbo nearly ran into him.”

“Did he do anything?”

“Naw, just gave yer pony a fright. Went on about how he shouldn’t be out and about in his condition.”

“Frerin did?” Thorin didn’t realize his brother cared about Bilbo’s safety. 

“Aye, right before he said he wouldn’t care if something happened to wee thing.”

Thorin sighed. “You know Frerin runs his mouth when he’s angry.”

“Aye, you and I know ‘im, but yer mate doesn’t. Seemed pretty upset.”

“Is he alright?” Thorin glances around instinctively hoping to catch sight of him. 

“He seems fine now. Fili and Kili managed to cheer ‘im back up. Kept picking the wrong weeds or something.” Dwalin shrugged, not particularly interested in anything that had to do with anything green and growing.

“Weeds? What exactly was he doing all day?” Bilbo had asked to go out and explore today but had refused to tell Thorin why. He had only said it was a surprise. 

Dwalin shrugged again. “Pickin’ weeds, diggin’ holes, weird stuff.”

Thorin chuckled with a crooked grin. Dwalin would guard the pony like his own life depended on it, but his typical responses to Bilbo’s interests ranged from indifferent to disgusted. It was actually kind of funny to watch the gruff stallion follow him around while he picked flowers or frolicked through the fields, Bilbo in all his carefree cheerfulness and Dwalin scowling at everything that moved within a thirty foot radius. “Where is he now?”

“Center camp. He had us stop at the river to wash his weeds before we came back.” Dwalin rolled his eyes, obviously not seeing the point in washing weeds. 

“Aren’t all green thing weeds to you?” Thorin jabbed with a smirk.

“Sure are. Only good for stompin’ on and feeding our food.” Dwalin agreed unrepentant of his narrow views.

Thorin chuckled again and thanked Dwalin for the update and for watching over his mate before moving on. He had barely seen Bilbo all day and was craving a fix of his favorite pony. 

He wandered towards the center of camp where a large campfire was always kept burning. As he got closer, he started to pick up some strange new scents. They got stronger as he got closer and his mouth started to water as he realized there was the smell of meat in the midst of it.

When he made it to the center, he found a large pot hanging near the fire with Bilbo sitting nearby working with some things on the ground. Bofur was standing on guard while his nephews seemed to be helping (or attempting to) with whatever the pony was doing.

He walked over and peered into the pot, discerning that it was the origin of the tasty smells in the air before nickering down to his mate. Bilbo looked up, only just noticing his stallion, and nickered back with a beaming smile.

Thorin returned the infectious grin and settled down next to him, being careful not to disturb his mate’s work. “And what are you up to that smells so delicious?”

Bilbo’s grin seemed to grow even wider as if pleased with Thorin’s description of what he was doing. “Something new.” He revealed mysteriously.

Thorin hummed and picked up a round, earthy looking thing. He recognized it as something the humans often ate. “And what are you doing with these?”

Bilbo continued chopping one of the earthy roots into little pieces. “I thought might make more food this way . . . If herd like it. Not do it much before, but, after bad winter, we learn new things to eat. These taste like what cooked with. Cook with meet, they taste like meat and make food . . . more?” He waved his hands in front of him looking for the right word. 

“So, you cook them with the meat. And what is all this green stuff?” 

“Herbs. Good for taste. Not use much. Little bit to make taste little different. Make more tastes.”

“We’re making stew, Uncle! Just like the humans make. Isn’t that crazy?” Kili jabber excitedly as he stirred the pot.

“I’m surprised you seem so eager to try it.”

“If there’s anything we’ve learned about Uncle Bilbo, it’s that he knows food. If Bilbo thinks we might like it, it’s worth trying.” Fili explained as he helped cut up potatoes.

“Besides, we’ve approved of all ingredients.” Kili added.

“Oh?”

Bilbo chuckled. “They test. They no like, we no use.”

“And what else are you putting in your stew?”

“Not much. Water, milk, meat, these, and herbs for taste. Start . . . Um.” The pony floundered looking for the right word.

“Simple.” Fili supplied and Bilbo nodded in agreement. “He didn’t want to put too many new things in it or we’d be more hesitant to try it and he didn’t want to make very much in case we didn’t like it so we don’t waste the meat.”

“So, make little to try. Make more if herd like.” Bilbo confirmed.

“And do you think it will help the herd if we are able to eat it?” 

“Oh yes! Make much more food this way with same number meat. Maybe less meat and still eat to full.” The pony replied enthusiastically. “But might take time to get just right. Not something I do lots.” 

Thorin gazed tenderly with a small grin at his distracted mate, awed by the attention and effort the pony put into taking care of the herd, not just his own mate or family. He cared for everyone. It seemed to come to him so naturally that it was always on his mind. Always looking for ways to improve their quality of life. 

It made Thorin wonder why they hadn’t tried any of these things before. Tradition. His people were so opposed to anything that wasn’t Khuzd that they had stubbornly resisted anything new, adhering recklessly to traditions and ways of life that were no longer effective. 

Maybe that was why they were slowing disappearing. Certainly there were traditions vital to the essence of their culture, but, perhaps, it was time to change some things that weren’t, especially those pertaining to survival. And Thorin couldn’t think of anyone better to lead with him into change that the small pony happily humming and chopping away at his side.

He leaned down and nuzzled the pony’s ear. Bilbo startled from his focus with a nicker but quickly returned the affection. Bilbo giggled at his stallion’s persistence and turned to give him his undivided attention. 

Fili finished up the potato Bilbo had been working on, ignoring his uncles, before gathering up all the chopped potatoes and dropping them in the pot as Kili stirred. “What now Uncle Bilbo?” 

Bilbo reluctantly pulled away from his stallion to answer the question. Thorin let him go but pursued his neck and ears with a growl. “N-now we wai-.” He cut off with a whinny when Thorin nibbled his ear. “K-keep stirring. Be back soon.” He hopped up and took off toward their tent with Thorin right on his heels.

Fili and Kili watched in confusion as they disappeared into the tent. “Where are they going? It’s not like we haven’t seen it all before.” Kili wondered. 

Fili just shrugged, more interested in the pot. “Maybe they have a favorite spot or something.”

“Or maybe they’re doing something new and kinky.” Kili’s voice lowered in mischief. “Let’s go see.”

“Bilbo told us to watch the pot. And someone has to pick up these herbs so they don’t get stomped on.” 

“Aww, come on! Aren’t you curious?”

Fili shrugged again. “Mom said to give them space, Kili. Bilbo needs his time with Uncle. We shouldn’t disturb them.” 

“I doubt they’d even notice.” Kili grumbled.

Fili chuckled as he knelt down to collect the leftover ingredients. “There’s always next time, Kee.” He winked conspiratorially, instantly cheering his brother.

A little while (and several loud whinnies) later, their uncles re-emerged from their tent. Thorin smiled smugly as Bilbo wobbled shakily back over to the pot. Bilbo instructed the young stallions to move the pot a little farther away from the fire before releasing them to go have some fun while the stew cooked.

Free of their duty, the young stallions took off, most likely looking for some trouble to get into, and Bilbo settled down near the pot to monitor it. Thorin sat down beside him to cuddle and keep him company. 

A couple hours later, the sun was on its way below the horizon and the entire camp seemed immersed in the savory smells wafting from Bilbo’s pot. Not a few herd members had begun to congregate around the center campfire curious and fascinated by the pony’s cooking. 

Bilbo stood up to stir the stew one last time, before taking a small taste. His face twisted in disgust even as he took another sip. He may not like the taste of meat, but, as a cook, he needed to be familiar with his product.

Thorin chuckled at the pony’s sour face and took the spoon to try it himself. He took a cautious sip, not sure what to expect. Flavor exploded over his tongue. It had a distinctly meaty taste but was thick and smooth in texture with little bits of chewy meat here and there. The herbs too were there, noticeable but not overwhelming, adding just enough flavor to make it uniquely different than he was used to. 

He resisted smacking his lips and took another bigger swig instead. It was good and refreshingly different while still maintaining the meaty essence that Thorin’s people loved. Unpracticed Indeed. His nephews were right, Bilbo definitely knew what he was doing when it came to food. “It’s delicious.” He finally admitted with a smile.

“Really?!” Bilbo beamed at the praise.

Thorin nodded before taking another bite, enforcing his statement. 

“Hey! Bilbo promised us first taste! Don’t eat it all!” Kili charged over when his uncle took another bite just to spite him. 

Fili and Kili both held out their little bowls waiting for their promised first taste and Bilbo placed a ladle scoop into each of their bowls. He had only made a small pot and he wanted everyone to get a taste. 

He grabbed another small bowl he had nearby and poured Thorin his portion, giving him almost twice as much as either of his nephews. Kili and a Fili eyed Thorin’s bowl in jealousy as they sipped their own hot soup down carefully but didn’t say anything. As both the Lead and his mate, they understood the deference Bilbo was showing his stallion. 

All those closest to Bilbo were first in line to try his stew. Gimli pranced with excitement as he received his bowl, making Bilbo chuckle at his enthusiasm. Right behind him we’re Dis and Sharli followed by Gloin, Bofur and Balin. Even Oin seemed eager to try Bilbo’s stew. 

At first it was only his close friends and family that seemed interested in trying the new concoction, but as they sat or stood around him muttering praises and moaning in delight, other stallions started hesitantly coming forward for a taste. 

Bilbo shared gladly with anyone who wished to taste it, his cheer increasing with every bowl he handed out regardless of their reactions to the stew itself. Even just getting a herd of Khazad to try something new was an impressive feat, and Thorin smiled knowing his mate had learned enough about them to understand that.

By the time the pot was empty, Thorin as quite sure that almost everyone in the herd had had a taste. The only exceptions being Dwalin, who refused to touch it since it had green stuff in it, and Frerin who never once made an appearance. 

Bilbo had offered a bowl to Dwalin and had only laughed when the only answer he had gotten was a twisted face of disgust. Fortunately, he knew Dwalin well enough not to be offended by his gruff mannerisms. In fact, Thorin wasn’t sure Bilbo hadn’t offered it just to see his face get all twisted like that. 

There were various responses to the stew. Some had only tasted it before offering the rest of their portion to someone else. Others had sipped away at it slowly as if they couldn’t quite decide what to think of it, still eyeing their bowls contemplatively even after finishing it. 

Many though, had drank it down eagerly with little or no hesitation. Those closest to Bilbo, being the most open-minded due to the pony’s influence, had been quick to offer praises and suggestions, both of which the pony accepted happily. 

Overall, the stew was a hit. Despite the different responses, nearly everyone had at least tried it, and even those who had given theirs away had no harsh criticisms to offer, merely stating it was ‘different’ or ‘strange,’ and that was success. 

Bilbo collected bowls and the pot and was about to take them down to the river for cleaning when Thorin sent his nephews to relieve the pony of the task. Bilbo protested weakly as they took the dishes off his hands. 

Thorin wrapped an arm around him and stroked down his side. “You need rest.” He rumbled, cutting off Bilbo’s protests. “For you and our foal.” He emphasized with a rub to Bilbo’s flank.

The pony surrendered instantly with a wide grin and let himself be led back to their tent. They would be moving on again in a couple days and Thorin wanted his mate to be well rested for the journey. 


	18. Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This months Sneak Peek: [_The Voice of the Gods_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/35885850)  
>  Bilbo is an audio telepathic hypnotist, whatever that means. All he knows is that he can make people do things with just his voice, sometimes without even trying. Which is why 'singer' was probably not the best career choice. Yet here he is, currently one of the most popular pop idols and not simply because of his power (or so he would like to believe). He thought the hardest thing he would have to face was keeping the power out of his voice when he performed until, suddenly, he's on the run. Someone has found out about his gift and Bilbo doesn't want to know why they want it. Something is stirring in the shadows and Bilbo finds himself forming new alliances and reforging old ones he never thought would rise again.
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin, X-Men Fusion

They packed up again and continued along their migration route, setting a much easier pace now that they were back to open plains specked with the occasional copse of trees here and there. Bilbo kept up cheerfully, but the trek fatigued him more noticeably now. He was often the first to sleep when they stopped at night and the last to rise in the mornings.

Thorin allowed him as much rest as he could without affecting their migration schedule. Fortunately, they were nearing the end of their southward march and would be turning mostly to the east as they followed the river, so there was less urgency to make it further south before the weather turned. 

Besides, Thorin suspected they might need to slow down as Bilbo’s pregnancy progressed and wanted to make good time while they could. Between marches, Thorin would make sure his mate got plenty off rest. 

After another two weeks of traveling south, they reached their next camping spot. Bilbo had rested the first day after stopping by his stallion’s insistence but was out and about tending his goats and collecting ingredients for his stews by the second day. 

That evening, he put his stew together in a much larger pot to let it cook until dinner time. His family and friends were more than happy to substitute it for their usual dinner and he made sure there was enough for everyone to eat their fill. Which they did, including several of the other seasonal stallions who helped empty the pot. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this full.” Fili moaned with satisfaction. 

Kili merely belched in agreement. 

“Indeed. It was delicious Bilbo. How much meat did you use for it?” Dis wondered.

Bilbo hummed in thought. “About half of what everyone would eat for dinner.”

“If that’s true, than the meat we have could be stretched to last twice as long.” Balin commented as he set down his own all but licked clean bowl. “Your stew will not only greatly improve the duration of our supplies but also feed us better as well.”

Bilbo smiled shyly at the praise with a blush. “I only try to help. ‘Good food, good life,’ my people say.”

His family chuckled around him. “No wonder you know so much about food, little Uncle.” Kili commented.

“I’m beginning to think your culture revolves around food.” Thorin jabbed playfully at his mate.

“Yes! Food, family, and comfort, but most of all food!” He answered mock seriously before breaking out into a grin as his family broke into laughs. 

Thorin wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, placing a kiss to his head even as he chuckled. 

“‘‘Tis good to know we have an expert in the herd.” Bofur winked playfully. “Won’t be going hungry anytime soon.”

“Bofur is right. Your knowledge has already proven itself a boon to our herd. Our Lead really did find the best mate.” Balin confirmed making the pony blush.

“I agree.” Thorin rumbled over the pony’s protests. “Mahal blessed me with the best.” He set his forehead against his mate’s. 

Bilbo quieted his protests and turned his face into Thorin’s. “Me too.” He returned softly before he leaned in for a nuzzle. 

“Aww! So cute!” Sharli cooed. “Oh, I can’t wait to see your little one.”

Bilbo beamed instantly at the mention and Thorin puffed up a little. 

“I think that is something we are all looking forward to.” Dis agreed. 

Bilbo laughed even as his mate rubbed his flank. “Is still very early yet.”

“Oh, it will be here soon enough, trust me.” Dis sent him a wink. “Now, If you have any questions or concerns, you just let me know. And if Thorin is working you too hard, well, just knock him a good one or tell me and I’ll do it for you.”

“I don’t assign him any work, you know that.” Thorin rebutted. The only work the pony did was what he wanted to do and, even that, Thorin limited when he felt it necessary. 

“I wasn’t talking about labor, dear brother.” She grinned mischievously. “No one has missed the ‘private time’ you two have been spending in your tent or the series of whinnies and squeals that come from it.”

Bilbo blushed with an embarrassed nicker, but Thorin merely raised an eyebrow at his sister. 

“I’m quite sure I’m the one doing most of the work.” 

“Oh? And how many times have you had to bear the weight of a large stallion like yourself on your back?” She challenged.

Thorin pulled a face disgusted by the idea but couldn’t argue.

“That’s what I thought. Just say the word, Bilbo, and Thorin will just have to cope.”

“What?!” Bilbo perked up in concerned. “No, no! He is very gentle! No need to stop!” His protests sending his nephews snickering again. “Really! Unless I get too wide for you to grip, you do not stop.” He turned to his mate with the near command. 

Dis and Thorin raised their brows while the young stallions fell over laughing at the image. 

“And here I though Bilbo was the innocent one!” Fili choked out between fits of laughter.

“I feel so deceived!” Kili agreed in gasping breaths. 

Bilbo huffed in mock indignation, while the others chuckled. 

“It’s good to be honest with your needs, Bilbo. And it seems my brother is more than happy to attend to yours.” Dis chuckled and Thorin rumbled in agreement into his pony’s ear. “Speaking of needs, you need your rest. Off to bed now with both of you, we’ll clean up this mess.” 

Bilbo didn’t protest, clear evidence of his own fatigue, but poured out the last of the stew into a bowl and handed it to Bofur with quiet instructions before he allowed his mate to direct him back to their tent. 

_~Frerin~_

He sat outside of his tent near the edge of the camp as he whittled new arrows for his quiver. Traditionally, his tent should be around the center with the rest of his families’ but he had taken to setting it up on the outer edge to get some space from them. 

And yet it still wasn’t far enough. He could still smell the stew that the pony had made and hear the laughter of his nephews. It seemed they were perfectly happy without his company anyway. They probably didn’t even spare him a thought, he thought sourly.

But at least he could be alone. Most of the herd had congregated to the camp center where the pony and his stew was, so the only other centaurs he occasionally saw were those on perimeter guard duty. 

He was finishing up another arrow shaft when he herd hoof steps approaching. He continued as he was ignoring them and hoping they would just go away, but they came to a stop a few steps away. 

“Nice evenin’, ain’t it?” 

Frerin turned to glare at the scruffy stallion. Bofur wasn’t even a real member of the herd and he was still received better than Frerin. “What do you want?”

“Nothin’. Just making a delivery.” Bofur set down a bowl of cooling stew on the ground next to him. “Bilbo wished to share this with ya and apologize for nearly runnin’ ya over before.”

“And what? He sent you to do his dirty work for him?” Frerin scoffed.

“Naw. Wasn’t like that. Ya see, he wanted to bring it to you ‘imself, but, well,” Bofur shrugged. “We wouldn’t let him.” 

Frerin furrowed his brows at the bowl, confused by the gesture. 

“Well, I did as I’s asked. Do what ya will.” And the scruffy stallion turned and walked back into camp. 

Frerin continued to stare at the bowl. He didn’t know what he should do. He couldn’t think of any reason that he had earned a kind gesture. He had shown no kindness or respect for the small pony. 

Did the pony pity him? His nose wrinkled in disgust and he reached out to toss the bowl away at the thought. He paused as he gripped it. The pony had shown him no pity before, only fear and distrust. And Frerin was very curious about the stew. The rest of his family seemed well pleased with it and he _had_ felt left out.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before taking a tentative sip. He sloshed it around in his mouth with furrowed brows as he assessed the flavors. It was thick and meaty with a hint of spice. He took another sip and then another. Before he realized it, he had drank down the whole bowl. 

He continued to stare at the bowl in thought. It was good and filling. He licked his lips wishing he could have got some more. But he was sure it was all gone by now. Well, pity offering or not, it was definitely worth eating. He was glad he hadn’t dumped it out of spite.

It seemed the pony had spared more thought for him than even the rest of his family had, considering they wouldn’t let him come to Frerin himself, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

_~Bilbo~_

From that evening on, Bilbo made a point to make stew for dinner as often as he could find the ingredients for it. The meat, milk, and even the herbs were no problem, but he often spent a good part of the day out digging for wild growing potatoes. 

He realized he was going to have to start growing potatoes at some point in order to keep stew on the menu, but there was no way he could while they were on the move. What he could do, was replant parts of potatoes here and there to ensure there would be some available during the next migration. So, that he did. 

There were many ways he wanted to contribute to the herd, but sometimes it was more difficult to find ways of maintaining it than introducing it, like with the stew. Though he knew it was a huge success that he was even able to get them to try it. 

They could always trade for potatoes before migration and, if they didn’t have to trade for so much meat, they could afford to trade for other things. But even so, that didn’t help them now and Bilbo busied himself with teaching the colts and any who would help how to find and dig up potatoes. 

He shifted his hooves as he stood in the cold water of the river. Most of the herd came down to wash up in the morning, taking advantage of the ability since they couldn’t spare the time when they were traveling. 

Bilbo stood patiently as Sharli and Dis thoroughly and gently washed and groomed him. They were even more attentive now that he was with foal, and, though he didn’t quite think he deserved all the fuss, he knew better than to resist the two mares. 

He giggled as Bofur tended to his own hair several feet away. “How do you make hair stay up like that?”

“What? This?” The scruffy stallion grinned. “Just got to show it who’s boss. Train it up good just so.” He smiled as he gave his mustache a twist on either side. 

Bilbo giggled and turned to Balin. “You too, Balin?”

“Aye. Just got to show it where to go.” He answered as he brushed his beard up, parted in the center.

“Course, a little hair oil goes a long way to, if ya can get some.” Bofur revealed with a wink. 

“And Dwalin?” He had always wondered how the big stallion made his hair stand up on the top of his head like that. He had never seen such a thing before he had met him.

“Ah, that, unfortunately, is not my secret to tell.” Balin answered mysteriously.

“Just admit ya don’t know either.” Bofur pointed in challenge with mischief in his eyes. 

“Aye. I do wonder myself sometimes.” Balin finally admitted, making the other two chuckle.

“Your tail is finally growing out. It’ll be long enough to braid soon.” Sharli commented after the laughter had died down. 

“You’re right. We’ll have to find a good braid for such curly hair.” Dis agree with a quick glance at his tail. “And we’ll need to find something to do with all those curls on your head, too.”

“Thorin said he wants to braid them.”

“Then why hasn’t he?” Dis grumbled in annoyance.

“I needed a bead.” Thorin’s low voice rumbled from the bank. 

Bilbo turned to him with a large grin as he waded into the water. 

“Which I have remedied. If I may?” Thorin gestured to the pony’s hair.

Bilbo nodded with an eager grin and turned his head to give his stallion better access. 

Thorin carded his fingers through the still damp curls before gently parting a portion for braiding. He carefully weaved most of Bilbo’s bangs to the side before clasping it with the bead, doing his best to tame the unruly curls. It was still short and the bead hung beside his left ear. 

“That should do for now.” Thorin stroked the new braid. “When we return to our summer campsite, I will make you many beads and we can change it if you like.”

Bilbo reached up and ran the braid through his fingers. “I love it. Thank you.” He beamed at his stallion. 

“Anything for you.” Thorin rumbled as he cupped the back of his pony’s head and leaned down for a kiss. 

Bilbo tugged on one of his braids to hold him down and prolong the kiss. 

“That’s enough of that, you two!” Dis scolded. “At lease wait until we’re done grooming him before you go and get frisky.”

Bilbo giggled and Thorin reluctantly pulled away with a crooked grin. “Fine, I think Dwalin was looking for me anyway.” He leaned down to give his mate one more quick kiss. “ I will see you later.” He rumbled with promise.

Bilbo nickered in anticipation and gave his stallion a nuzzle before Thorin turned and waded out, heading back into camp. 

“Alright,” Dis patted his croup. “Let’s get you out and your hooves tended too. I won’t have you stumbling while you’re carrying.”

Bilbo nickered in compliance and they all waded out to finished his grooming.

Later, Bilbo was prancing around the field looking for potato plants. He felt amazing, as he always did after Sharli and Dis finished grooming him. He was sure his coat was groomed to a glimmering shine in the sun. They were nothing if not thorough.

He stopped and dug with his hoof to see if the plant he found had any ripe potatoes. His nephews wouldn’t even let him dig them up anymore and this was the most he could get away with, though Dis would have a fit at the state of his hooves afterward.

He looked up to call his nephews, after confirming the presence of ripe potatoes, but startled and froze. They were near a small copse of trees and there, in the shade of a tree on the edge of the copse, was a stallion. 

Bilbo stared, trying to ascertain if he was a friend or foe. His coloring was hard to tell, distorted as it was by the shade, but Bilbo was sure he had never seen this stallion before. But he was quite certain that the stallion was watching him, possibly for some time. 

He backpedaled, glancing back to find his guards, and startled when he found Dwalin almost right behind him, already pinning the stranger with a threatening glare. Bilbo continued to retreat until he was safely behind the big stallion. Bofur, Fili, And Kili trotted over, surrounding the pony in a defensive stance after realizing something was amiss. 

Only when he was sure the pony was well guarded did Dwalin step forward to address the strange stallion. “State yer name and purpose!” He barked as an order.

After a few moments, the stallion casually stepped forward and out of the shade. He had a light red coloring with black points and bore the traditional Stonehoof markings. His mane was short, but his hair was loose and wild save for a single braid formed from the hair on the crown of his head that hung down the back.

“Name’s Dagan. I’m looking for a herd.” The stranger answered evenly. 

“Bit late in the season.” Dwalin challenged. Lone stallions at this time of the year were usually trouble makers and not to be trusted. 

“True. I had a herd, but, well, you know how it is with resources these days. They were lookin’ for volunteers to bail out. I can handle myself well enough, I figured, so I volunteered to move on. Hoped I might come across a new herd. I don’t suppose yours can afford to feed one more mouth?” He explained, composure calm and friendly. 

Dwalin’s glare didn’t lessen in the slightest. It was an easy enough cover story and even Bilbo was hesitant to buy if at face value. 

“No one joins the herd unless approved by the Lead.” Dwalin finally responded. Technically, only Thorin could turn the stallion away.

“Sounds fair to me.” Dagan nodded amiably. “And where might I find him?”

“We will escort you.” Dwalin almost growled. He wasn’t about to let the strange stallion out of his sight. “Seems we’ll be returning to camp early.” He didn’t specify who he was talking to, but Bilbo knew it was for him and he nodded. 

“Fili. Kili. Lead us back. Bofur, guard their backs. I’ll be following you, Dagan.” Dwalin ordered, clearly wanting to put some distance between the stranger and the pony and still guard them both. 

Fili and Kili kept Bilbo between them and started heading back to the camp, leaving the others to follow. Bofur stayed right behind Bilbo, effectively blocking the stranger’s access should he try anything and Dwalin stayed beside and just a little behind the strange stallion as they walked. 

“So, who’s the little one?” Dagan tried to strike up a conversation. 

“None of yer concern.” Dwalin replied shortly.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was a mare.” Dagan fished.

“None of yer concern.”

“Well, he’s very beautiful. I’ve seen a few ponies from afar over in the West, but never one this close. His mate must be very lucky.” Dagan continued stubbornly. 

“Ye can tell him so while yer convincing him to let ye stay with the herd.” Dwalin growled, unconcerned with confirming the strangers suspicions. 

Dagan raised a brow. “He is the Lead’s mate?”

“And ye’d do well to remember it.” Dwalin threatened lowly. 

“Well, he certainly is a mate fit for a Lead. He is very lucky indeed.” Dagan seemed unperturbed by the threat.

Bilbo kept one ear swiveled back, listening in on the conversation as they walked. He seemed friendly enough. He spoke pleasantly and looked decent for a lone stallion. He had a very easy-going air about him. He reminded Bilbo of Bofur in many ways while striking him as completely different at the same time. 

The biggest difference being their eyes. Bofur’s eyes were gentle and friendly. Dagan’s, well, Bilbo wasn’t sure what his were and that made him uneasy. His eyes didn’t seem to match the rest of his face, they were almost blank, inexpressive. It gave Bilbo a chill. 

He didn’t want to think badly of the stranger, but, at the same time, he didn’t think he could trust someone who’s eyes were so guarded. Eyes that he had been all but locked on him and he hadn’t even noticed. Had he already known about what’s Bilbo was? He hadn’t seemed surprised by it. 

Bilbo tried to push down his suspicions. Dagan deserved a chance. After all, it wasn’t unusual for Bilbo or receive a few strange looks from newcomers. Maybe he was just overthinking the whole thing. 

Or maybe it was just his hormones. He had heard that mares with foal often become overly suspicious and protective. He just needed to get some attention from his mate. That always worked to calm him down. Thorin would deal with the stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Frerin puts himself and Thorin in difficult positions. Thorin has to decided whether the new stallion will stay, putting Frerin's honor and reputation at risk either way.


	19. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Next post will be in 2019! :)

The six of them marched back to camp, Dwalin keeping a close eye on the stranger. They were almost back to camp when Frerin spotted them, on his way back from another hunting trip. “Dagan?”

“Frerin?”

Frerin trotted over to join them. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?” He took in Dwalin’s aggressive stance.

“Oh, you know how it is, tough times call for desperate measures. Herd I was with ran low on food, so I volunteered to move on.”

Frerin nodded in understanding. “A lot of herds are having troubles. Everything all right, Dwalin?” 

“Ye know it’s not. Rogue stallions are a threat until approved. ye know that.” 

“He’s not a threat. He’s a friend. I’ve traveled with him. I know him.” 

“Not yer call.” Dwalin warned lowly as they continued to camp. 

“Fine. Then I’ll accompany you. Your taking him to Thorin, right?”

“Every stallion has to be approved by the Lead.” Dwalin answered instead. 

Frerin just nodded and fell into step beside Dagan as they walked. He knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with Dwalin. He would save his breath for his brother. 

The group relaxed as the entered the camp, well, everyone but Dwalin. Fili and Kili bid farewell to the pony before taking off in another direction. Bofur stayed but took up a more casual position next to Bilbo as they headed towards the camp center. 

They found Thorin, there in the center, talking with Dis. With the Lead in sight, Bofur also fell away, leaving the pony in his stallion’s care. Thorin caught site of them and grinned as Bilbo practically skipped over to him, eager to close the distance.

Thorin wrapped his pony up in his arms with an affectionate nuzzle as they nickered greetings to each other. “You are back earlier than I expected.” Thorin rumbled in his ear.

Bilbo shivered deliciously. “Something came up.”

“Oh?” Only then did he look up to the three stallions standing in front of him. “Who is this?” He demanded lowly, all cheer gone from his face as he pulled Bilbo around to stand next to him.

“My name is Dagan, Lead Stallion Thorin.”

“Found ‘im out in the fields near the camp. Says ‘e’s lookin’ for a new herd.” Dwalin filled in. 

“And what was wrong with your last one?” 

“Food shortage. I left willingly.” Dagan answered.

“And you expect me to just accept your word and welcome you?” Thorin glared at the intruder. It was a simple story, believable but not easily confirmed. There was no way to discover the lie until it was too late. 

“All I want is a chance. It can be tough in a herd, but it’s even tougher on your own these days.”

Thorin continued to stare him down. He didn’t look convinced. 

“I’ll vouch for him.” Frerin spoke up. “He’s a friend. We’ve traveled together.”

Thorin swung his stare to his brother, before shifting between the two of them. His mate shifted beside him, absorbing too much tension from the situation. “Bilbo,” He turned to the pony. “Go with Dis for a while, while I take care of this. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

Bilbo looked between the stallions apprehensively. Probably concerned some kind of fight was going to break out, which was quite likely and the reason Thorin wanted his pregnant mate away from the situation.

Finally, he nodded and followed his beckoning sister. Thorin turned back to the stallions, his expression going from soft adoration to hard and assessing within a mere moment. “Frerin. With me.” He ordered even as he moved towards his tent. 

Frerin’s tail swished uneasily, but he followed his brother into his tent.

As soon as the flap closed behind him, Thorin got down to business. “You know we don’t accept new stallions after migration has started.”

“Herd policy states that no stallion can be admitted mid migration _without_ the recommendation of another reputable stallion.” Frerin countered. 

Frankly, Thorin was impressed he knew herd policy at all. “It also states that I, as Lead, have the finally say and can refuse entry to any stallion for any reason.”

“And what reason would that be?! Because another herd couldn’t afford to feed an extra mouth?!”

“There is no way to confirm his story and you know it.” 

“So, you’re going to deny him the safety of a herd for what, because you can’t prove he’s not lying, even though his story is more than possible, but likely?! He’s not a liar!”

“And the only proof I have of that is your word.”

“Yes! Or what, am I not reputable enough?! Is that why?! I made a mistake! I haven’t taken a step out of line since then! Or is this _because_ he’s my friend?! Is that it?! I couldn’t possibly have friends that aren’t troublemakers?! Cause no respectable stallion would call me friend?!” 

“You know that’s not what I’m saying.” Thorin kept his voice level. He knew it was going to end up this way. 

“Oh really?! Cause I bet if Dwalin was vouching for him, you’d let him in right away!”

“Dwalin’s priority is the safety of this herd! Can you say the same?!” Thorin rebuked. Frerin was out of line. Someone who skirted his duties to live carefree had no business judging Thorin’s decisions. Thorin had to protect his herd.

Frerin stepped back, chastised. “Does my word mean nothing?”

Thorin sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “A probation. He may stay on probation until I make my decision. But I will not promise a favorable one regardless of his behavior.” Thorin warned. “And you will be the one responsible for keeping an eye on him. You have vouched for him, so now your own reputation is on the line.”

Frerin nodded, his lips pressed in a tight line.

“You may go.”

Frerin’s teeth gritted at the dismissal, but he turned and left the tent. Thorin took a moment to collect himself. It seemed every encounter with his brother these days turned into a conflict. How he wished it were not the case.

When he left the tent, Dwalin was waiting for him alone. “Ye sure this is a good idea?”

“No. But, Frerin has vouched for him and put his own honor on the line. Now I need a good reason to deny entry to prevent staining Frerin’s honor in the process.”

“Yer brother’s a fool.”

“Perhaps, But he’s an honest one. Let’s just hope he’s right about this Dagan. Keep an eye on him for now. I’ll need to make a final decision before we move on.”

Dwalin nodded and left, presumably to do just that. Thorin sighed again. He hated being stuck between his herd and his brother. But this was not a decision he could take lightly. He would discuss it with his other advisers before making a decision. But for now, he needed some time with his mate.

Over the next several days, he discussed the issue with his other advisers. First was Oin. Oin wouldn’t have an opinion on the stallion’s staying or going, but he would confirm that the stallion had a clean bill of health and posed no contamination risks to the rest of the herd. Which he did. 

He thanked Oin before quickly turning to a more agreeable subject. His mate’s pregnancy, which Oin said was still going well, the pony showing minor signs of carrying. His pregnancy scent had also kicked in, filled with calming pheromones that heightened the protective nature of stallions.

The next day he found Balin and asked for his opinion. Balin agreed it was a touchy situation because of Frerin’s recommendation. Frerin’s honor was now tied to this strange stallion’s. Balin cautioned him not to make a decision rashly and to consider allowing the stallion to stay should nothing be found against him.

After all, thanks to Bilbo, they had plenty of food to go around and could always use another pair of hands and set of hooves for hunting and guard duty. Thorin conceded his points and kept them in mind. 

Next he sought out his sister. She would speak on behalf of the mares of the herd. “If he makes you uneasy, then kick him out.” She declared mercilessly.

“His honor is bound to Frerin’s. I can’t refuse him without a reason.”

“What honor?” She scoffed. “If he had any honor, he would be doing his part to take care of his herd, not taking off every summer for his own pursuits.” 

“Many stallions wander, Dis. It does not make them dishonorable. Vili was a roaming stallion.” He pointed out softly.

“Vili was not a prince of his herd!” She snapped back. Thorin knew she had always been a little resentful of his freedom while she and Thorin had been all but imprisoned by duty.

“True, but Frerin believes he is not needed in the herd.” He argues his brother’s side. It’s not that he didn’t understand him, he just couldn’t agree with him, and he knew Dis didn’t either. 

“Well, that just shows how stupid he is, doesn’t it.”

Thorin shook his head. “So, you think I should cast him out?”

“I think you should do whatever you think is best for the herd. That is your job.”

By the third day, Thorin wasn’t anymore decided on the issue than he had been at the beginning. He needed to make a decision by tomorrow, as they would be packing up to move on again. He sent for Dwalin to get a report on the new stallion.

“So?”

Dwalin shook his head. “Ain’t seen anything out of the normal. He sticks with Frerin; they spend most of their time out hunting.”

Thorin sighed. He was looking for something more telling, either one way or the other. “Nothing suspicious? Concerning?”

“Since he’s been here? No. But have ye asked yer mate about ‘im?”

“Bilbo? No. Why?” Thorin growled, instantly suspicious.

“He was eyeing yer pony when we found ‘im. Seemed awfully interested in finding out more about him. Might have made yer mate a bit uncomfortable.” Dwalin gave him a significant look. 

Thorin hadn’t thought to speak to Bilbo about Dagan. Now that he thought about it, Bilbo probably should have been one of the first he spoke to about him. As innocent and carefree as he looked, his mate had a keen mind and watchful eye. If Bilbo was uneasy around the stranger, it was worth looking into.

That night they collapsed into onto their bed pallet panting. Thorin was pleased to find that his pony was still eager to be mounted, despite his condition. Thorin held his mate against him, running his hand over soft curls. Bilbo’s coat was fully grown out now and he was covered in delightfully soft, fuzzy curls. 

Even his upper body had a thick layer of soft, wavy fuzz. Thorin still marveled that his mate could continue not wearing any clothes. Not that he minded, or anyone else for that matter. The mares loved fawning over and tending to his curly coat, and, though they knew better than to touch (or even get caught looking), he knew the other stallions appreciated the exotic beauty of his mate. 

Which brought him back to Dagan. He could understand the stallion’s curiosity and even Bilbo’s discomfort with it, considering his past experiences, but he needed to know if there’s was anything deeper to his mate’s concerns.

Bilbo was lax against him and Thorin had one foreleg thrown over his mate’s middle. He continued his calming strokes. “What do you think about Dagan?”

Bilbo tilted his head back to peer at his stallion, before dropping it back to a more comfortable position. “He seems to be friends with Frerin.” 

Thorin nuzzled into his pony’s hair. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I do not know. I only spent a few minutes around him.”

“And what impressions did you get during got those few minutes?” Thorin gently pushed. 

Bilbo was quiet for several moments. “I do not know.”

Thorin thought he might be withholding something. Maybe for his brother’s sake. He was about to challenge Bilbo about it when the pony continued. 

“I can not read his eyes. They do not match his face. I do not know what to think.” He clarified thoughtfully.

It wasn’t that Bilbo lacked or was hiding an opinion, but that his opinion was confusion. “What do you mean?”

Bilbo was silent in thought for a few moments. “His eyes do not speak. Other’s eyes . . say something about them. His feel . . blank? . . Guarded maybe?”

“Like he’s hiding something?”

Bilbo hummed. “Maybe? Or indifferent? I don’t know.”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“He did at first, but I haven’t really seen him much since then. And I-I might have just been overreacting.” Bilbo ducked his head sheepishly.

“And why would you think that?” Thorin rumbled in his ear as he petted him reassuringly.

“Well . . because I’m carrying, I understand it makes mares a bit . . . Um-“ 

“Paranoid?” Thorin finished with a chuckle. Dis had been terrible when she was carrying. She had accused almost every one of their season stallions at the time of something or other. 

“Yes?”

“It is good to be cautious. If you have any concerns, tell me and I will look into them.”

Bilbo nodded and relaxed back into his stallion’s arms. 

“Do you think I should allow Dagan to stay?”

“I think Frerin would like it.”

“You think I should allow it for Frerin’s sake.” He sighed softly, his mate was too compassionate sometimes. 

“Only if you think it is safe. I do not think you should risk anyone else just to make him happy.”

Thorin grinned into his mate’s hair. Of course, Bilbo would put the herd’s well-being first, even as much as he wanted reconciliation with one he considered part of his family. “Thank you for your thoughts.”

Bilbo nickered shyly. “They are not that special.”

“They are very important to me.” Thorin rumbled into his ear, giving it a soft nip.

Bilbo nickered excitedly and melted in his stallion’s arms. Quickly falling asleep now that they were quiet. Thorin would make his decision tomorrow.

The next day the camp was busy with preparations once again. He called Frerin and Dagan to his tent in the midst of it. “Frerin.” He summoned his brother into his tent. 

Frerin stood before him in his tent, looking like he was waiting for his own sentence.

“Do you understand the position you have put yourself in?” Thorin began.

“This isn’t about me. It’s about Dagan.”

“Not anymore. By vouching for him, you have entwined your own honor with his. If he does anything to harm this herd or any member of it, you will hold partial guilt. Do you understand how serious thus is?!”

Frerin looked taken aback at first but seemed to gather his resolve. “I know Dagan. He’s a friend and a good stallion.”

Thorin stared him down, looking for any sign of doubt. Frerin met his gaze, convinced and determined. “Very well. Send him in.”

Relief washed over Frerin’s face. “Thank you.”

“I have to approved him yet.”

Frerin nodded and stepped out of the tent. A moment later, Dagan sauntered in.

Thorin let him suffer under his scrutinizing gaze, for several long moments. The stallion didn’t seem overly bothered by it and stayed relaxed as Thorin studied him. He certainly looked as if he had nothing to hide. 

Thorin searched his eyes, looking for whatever it was that had made his mate uneasy. There was definitely something, something off, but Thorin could’t put his hoof on it either. But there had been nothing else in his behavior to warrant a refusal of entry to the herd. 

“I am willing to grant you tentative entry into my herd, based on Frerin’s recommendation and your recent good behavior. While you are here, you will perform any duties assigned to you and support the general well-being of the herd as a whole. In exchange you will enjoy the safety and sustenance offered by the herd.”

Thorin circled the stallion as he continued. “If I discover any reason to suspect or doubt you I will expel you from the herd. If I find that you have done anything to damage the herd intentionally, I will brand you as an outcast.”

He came to a stop on the other side of the stallion, using his above average height to tower over the stranger. He leaned in with a low growl. “If you make any kind of advancement on my mate, I will personally skin you and use your hide as a rug for my tent. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” Dagan answered, his face and stance giving away no sign of unease.

“You will be sharing Frerin’s space, since he has vouched for your stay. Do not make me regret my decision. It will not end well for you.” Thorin walked away in silent dismissal.

He didn’t turn around when the tent doer flapped closed after the stallion. He did turn when it flapped again. “Yer lettin’ ‘im stay.” 

“Only for as long as I have no reason not to. Keep an eye on him. Pair him with Frerin for duties as often as possible. Let me know if you notice anything suspicious.”

Dwalin nodded in confirmation. Just as Dwalin turned to go, Bilbo wandered in wearing a dissatisfied pout. 

Bilbo nickered a greeting to Dwalin as he left. 

Thorin immediately stepped over to him. “What’s wrong?”

They nuzzled with low nickers before Bilbo pulled away to resume his pout. 

“I was trying to help, but Dis sent me away to rest, like some foal who’s played too hard.” His pout was in full force.

Thorin bit down a laugh and still a chuckle fought its way out. At least it wasn’t something serious, and, really, Bilbo’s pout was way too adorable. Much like a foal who had played too hard and needed a nap. 

“She is only concerned for you and our foal. I’m sure she wants you well rested for the next leg of our migration.” He nuzzled into silky curls. “You should take advantage of this time to rest while you have it.”

Bilbo grumbled a bit but couldn’t keep his sour mood at the mention of their foal. “Will you rest with me?”

Thorin considered the request. He would like nothing more, but there was much to get down before tomorrow. He gazed into his mate’s eyes, they were hopeful but understanding. Bilbo probably expected to be turned down even before he made the request. The thought made Thorin’s decision far easier. 

“Of course.” He had work to do, but everything he needed to do, could be done by another. He was the only one who could take care of his mate’s needs. And Bilbo was far more important than packing up tents and supplies.

Bilbo beamed and led them over to their pallet. They wouldn’t be able to rest for very long as their tent would also have to be packed up. But for now, Bilbo snuggled up to his stallion and quickly drifted off. 

Thorin held his mate and hoped that things would stay this peaceful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Frerin spends some time with his friend and makes a discovery that he almost wishes he hadn't.


	20. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!  
> Here's to the first chapters of 2019! :D  
>   
> Sneak Peak for January: [To Live or Not Die](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/38728292)  
> Four months ago the first deadwalker was found and everything went downhill from there. The world as they know it has ended and Thorin and what’s left of his family are struggling to survive in the new dangerous world. Thorin, military trained and determined to keep his family alive, rules uncontested over his group until one day they find and take in a short middle aged bookworm who’s convinced that Thorin has lost sight of what really matters and has no qualms letting him know it.
> 
> Thorin/Bilbo, Older!Bilbo, Younger!Thorin, Zombie!AU

The next two weeks of traveling was peaceful and uneventful, despite Thorin and Dwalin’s expectations of trouble. Dagan never stepped out of line and flawlessly handled every duty assigned to him. 

By the time they were setting up camp at their next stopping point, Thorin’s tension had eased considerably. Perhaps Dagan was a trustworthy stallion who had selflessly chosen to make it on his own to accommodate others. Maybe. Thorin still wasn’t entirely convinced but he wasn’t constantly on edge waiting for something to happen either.

_~Frerin~_

They walked casually through the fields. They had already killed two wild pigs on this hunt and were currently taking their time getting back to camp. Frerin had to admit, it was nice having someone around who wasn’t part of his brother’s circle, someone who was more connected to himself than anyone else in the herd.

Which was part of the reason he had pushed so hard to get Thorin to approve of his staying. Dagan was fun and easygoing; they had struck up a quick friendship when they had met on their travels. He had been sure that Thorin as going to deny the stallion a place in the herd, but he had eventually relented. 

Now they spent most of their time on hunting duty, just the two of them, and Frerin was grateful for the company. They chatted about little things nothing important most of the time. Where they had been, what they had seen on their travels, and what they were hoping for the future, as they were right now.

“Good luck to ya. Can’t imagine I’ll ever find myself that perfect mare, one meant all for me, ya know?”

“You're not looking for a mare anymore?” Frerin questioned surprised.

“Didn’t say that. Just . . lowered my standards a bit, if ya know what I mean. Not looking for that perfect mare, just willing ta take one that will accept me, ya know?”

“Just any mare?” The idea was anything but appealingly. Frerin wanted to be happy, not just mated. Thorin certainly would have never settled for just any mare.

Dagan just shrugged, not offended by the slight tone of disgust in his friend’s voice. “We ain’t all princes. Can’t all expect a princess.”

“As if my station has ever helped me win a mare.” Frerin scoffed.

“Well, maybe it’s time you lowered your standards a bit then. Ya know how it is, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I don’t really think that applies to finding mares.” Frerin laughed. How refreshing to have a friend with a sense of humor.

Dagan just smiled. “Speaking of desperate times, I hear the pony cooks up some kind of stew sometimes.”

Frerin’s good mood dropped fractionally. His brother’s mate was the last person he wanted to talk about. “Yeah, It’s pretty simple, just meat, potatoes and milk, mostly.” Or so he understood from what he overheard. “It’s okay.”

“I can’t wait to try it. I’ve overheard several stallions talking about it. It seems to be quite popular.” 

Frerin shrugged. “Yeah, it’s all right. Still feels like eating human food.”

“You’ve tried it?” Dagan looked over at him somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, the whole herd has tried it. Why wouldn’t I have?”

“Oh. Well, no reason really. I just got the impression that ya weren’t on great terms with yer brother at the moment, so I wondered if you’d have tried it.”

“Just because we’re not on good terms doesn’t mean I’m denied food.” 

“Ya know that’s not what I meant. Why aren’t you on good terms with him, anyway?”

Frerin wanted to snap that it wasn’t his business, but it was a fair question coming from a friend. He just wasn’t sure how to answer it. “We just . . don’t see eye to eye.” He shrugged.

Dagan eyed him searchingly. “From what you’ve told me. Ya haven’t seen eye to eye for most of your life. So, what’s makes it different now?”

Frerin shrugged again, hoping Dagan would drop the subject. “It just is.”

“Cause he has a mate now. You told me once you didn’t think he would ever find a mate cause he was too stiff and duty bound. But he did. I rather desirable one, I might add.”

Frerin scowled. “Don’t talk like that around camp. Thorin won’t take it lightly.”

“Yeah, yeah. So I’ve been warned. So, what? Yer jealous? Or maybe ya just don’t like the pony?”

Frerin’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about the blasted pony.”

“So, it’s the pony?” Dagan continued. “You don’t like him. Cause he’s not Khuzd? . . .Or because he’s your brother’s mate?” Dagan watched Frerin closely, reading his reactions. 

“I just don’t! I don’t have to like everybody. What difference does it make what the reason is?! I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

“It sounds to me like maybe ya need to, though. Get it off yer back as they say. . . . Why wouldn’t you like him? Everything I’ve heard makes him sound adorable, sweet, smart, . . . and fertile. Sounds like he would be an asset to any herd.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.” Frerin gritted out.

Dagan’s brows furrowed in confusion. “So then what’s yer . . . Oh. It’s cause you do like him. So, yer jealous then.”

Frerin clamped his mouth shut and only replied with a glare. He had already said more than he wanted.

“Now that I can understand. He is definitely easy on the eyes. And his qualities only make one even more envious of his stallion. It must bite that yer stiff, boring brother managed to find such an amazing mate before you could find a mate of any kind.”

Frerin’s glare turned scathing. He didn’t need it shoved in his face.

“Oh, come on.” Dagan bumped shoulders with him. “I’m not taunting ya, it’s just the way it is. You’ll feel better if you can talk about it, vent a little. Bottling it up won’t do you any good.”

Frerin relented with a sigh. “He always gets the best of everything. I just thought I could, at least, find a mate first. You know, considering he wasn’t even looking. And he still found one first and, I thought it was a joke at the beginning, when I first met Bilbo, but he wasn’t and he’s amazing, and I still have no one.” Frerin did his best not to pout.

“I get it. Yer brother’s a Lead. Of course, he’s gonna get the best of everything. But, if ya think about it, it’s a small compensation for what he has to do.”

Frerin’s eyebrows pinched. “Are you taking his side now?”

“No way, but think about it. If we fail in our hunt today, what happens? We shrug it off and try again tomorrow. It’s just one hunt. But if half of the hunting parties fail today, who has to worry about it. We probably won’t even know about it, but the Lead will. And he’ll have to figure out what can be done to keep his herd from starving. You and I, we’re just doing our one simple task, but he’s responsible for the well-being of every member of the herd. And then add everything else that goes into taking care of a herd, and, well, the Lead has a lot riding on him.”

Frerin scowled in thought. It’s not like the difference in their roles was new to him, but he had never had to stop and really think about it. When put like that he could somewhat understand why his brother was so uptight all the time, especially since things have been getting harder for centaurs as a whole. He had never really thought about how much pressure his brother was constantly under.

“In that light, the pony is a huge advantage to yer brother. Not just adding more mouths to feed, but actually finding ways to ease the burdens of the herd as a whole. Yer herd is lucky to have him.”

“Maybe I have been a bit selfish about it all.” Frerin admitted in a soft mumble.

Dagan laughed at the admission. “Nothing wrong with being selfish. Just be honest about it, yeah?” 

Frerin huffed in amusement. He wasn’t even sure how that made sense.

“See, I, for example, would have scooped up that little pony in a heartbeat, if it had been me. And, if I thought I even stood a chance against yer brother, I would be tempted to challenge him for his gorgeous little mate.” Dagan declared a little too honestly. 

“You would lose.” Frerin assured him. “And even if you won, Bilbo wouldn’t except you.”

“True, True. Good thing I know when I’m beat. I’m not dumb enough to challenge yer brother for his mate. I’m quite sure I wouldn’t live to regret it.”

Frerin chuckled darkly. Dagan had no idea. Despite the softness his brother had been displaying lately since finding his mate, Thorin was one of the greatest warriors their herd had ever seen, hardened in battle before Frerin was even allowed to wield a weapon. A strategic mind and an unfathomable grace on the battle field made him deadly. Dagan would be dead before he even realized he was in over his head, and that’s if Thorin didn’t play with him first and allow him some hope of winning. Thorin would slaughter anyone who challenged him for his mare.

The next day they were returning from a hunt in much the same way when they came a cross Bilbo and his nephews out tending the goats near the camp. There were several stallions around guarding the herd.

Frerin steered them to go around as he usually did, trying to keep a good distance from the pony. Dagan seemed to have other plans as the headed straight for the little group.

“What are you doing?” Frerin hissed at him.

“What? I haven’t had the chance to properly speak to the pony. Might as well take it now.”

“Thorin won’t be pleased.” Frerin followed, but scanned around for any sign of his brother. Dagan was his responsibility, he couldn’t just leave him with the pony.

“Come on. We’re in plain sight of nearly the whole camp. Plus there are several guards here. We’re hardly crossing any lines. It’s just a simple conversation. I’ve seen him talk with plenty of the stallions.” Dagan reasoned. 

“None of those stallions are us.” Frerin grumbled under his breath, he couldn’t help feel like he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

Frerin rolled his eyes as Dagan strutted right up to the pony. What was the point of impressing a mare who was already taken? Besides, Dagan wasn’t much of a sight compared to Thorin.

The pony stilled, eyeing them cautiously as they approached. 

“Hello! Bilbo is it?” Dagan gave a small bow. “I’ve heard much about you since I’ve been here. I have to admit, I’ve never met anyone quite so special.”

Bilbo fidgeted on his feet, looking like he might be blushing under his curly hair. Fili and Kili on either side of him, however, eyed the stallion with suspicious glares.

“I’m nothing special.” Bilbo finally responded.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t agree with that. After all, not just anyone can claim to single-handedly save a whole herd from extinction.”

“I-I didn’t . . .” Bilbo shook his head, uncomfortable with all the praise.

“The goats? I heard you even managed to charm that old woodland king.” Dagan leaned in as if discussing a secret. 

“He is a friend.” Bilbo took a step back to put more space between them.

“And the stew. I’m very much looking forward to trying that. Do you think you’ll be making it tonight?”

“I need more potatoes. When I have enough I will make it.” Bilbo replied, he seemed to finally be relaxing into the conversation. 

“I can’t wait. Oh! I believe I owe you some congratulations. I hear you are with foal. Lead Thorin is very lucky indeed.”

Bilbo’s mood and countenance instantly brightened and he grinned shyly. “Thank you. We are very pleased.

Frerin stared in spite of himself. The pony was glowing and the shy curls of his lips was strangely appealing. He tore his eyes away when he realized the conversation had not continued. Dagan seemed equally awestruck and Frerin elbowed him to break the trance. 

“Oh, yes, of course.” Dagan cleared his throat. “Well, I hope your little one inherits your stunning coat. Really, it is beautiful in both color and texture.” He leaned forward again and this time the pony didn’t retreat. “Has anyone ever told you that gold is the most coveted of all coat colors?”

Bilbo’s head tilted in curiosity.

“At least for Khazad, anyway. That’s why the Durin line has always been so highly regarded. The sacred carriers of the golden gene, or so they’ve been called. Much like Frerin here, though I understand the mare Dis also shows signs of carrying the golden gene.”

Bilbo listened with wide eyes. “They did not say it was sacred, only that it was a trait of their clan.”

“Well, of course. I’m sure they were being modest. Though it is unfortunate that the current Lead is not a carrier of the sacred gene, or so I have heard some say.” 

Frerin flinched at the comment and Bilbo’s face became pinched. “Thorin is perfect as he is and very handsome without being golden.” Bilbo stated as if it were simple fact.

“Yes, well, it certainly hasn’t made him any less of an outstanding Lead, that’s for sure. And with you as his mate, perhaps there will be gold in his line yet, though I am sure they will be loved regardless, especially if they inherit you’re exotic curls.”

“They will be loved regardless of their appearance.” Bilbo corrected, but still wore a pleased look on his face.

“I’m sure they will be.” 

Frerin had had as much as he could stand and tugged Dagan to indicate as much. “Forgive us for taking up your time, but we have kills to deliver so we will be taking our leave.” He ended the conversation for his friend. 

“Nothing to forgive, Frerin. Did-did you enjoy the stew?” The pony looked at him shy and uncertain and Frerin was forced to make eye contact. 

His name on the pony’s lips made his heart do funny things. He stared back as his spinning mind tried to reorient itself. “It-it was . . good.” He managed to fumble through. “Thank you, for thinking of me.” He added quietly.

The smile he was rewarded with was almost blinding and his heart went from doing strange things to jumping into overdrive. His stomach fluttered strangely and his brain screeched to a halt.

Dagan was side eyeing him suspiciously and finally returned the elbow jab to snap him out of his daze. “Well, as he said, we best be off. It was nice talking to you, Bilbo.” Dagan pushed Frerin on as the stallion slowly regained his faculties. 

Frerin was still recovering even as the unloaded their kills near the meat wagon.

“I get it now.” Dagan’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Get what?”

“You’re in love with the pony. That’s why you’re on bad terms with your brother and why you can’t stand talking or being around Bilbo.” Dagan spilled casually.

“What?!” Frerin’s eyes swept around in paranoia. “No, I’m not!”

“Oh yeah? Then what was that back there?”

“You did it too!”

“You mean when he smiled? Well, yeah, he has an adorable smile. But I was just stunned. You practically shut down. We were halfway through the camp before you even knew what was happening.” Dagan accused. “You’re in love with your brother’s mate. Harsh.”

“Shut up!” Frerin hissed. “Are you trying to get me killed!”

“So, you admit it then?”

“No! But it wouldn’t matter it if was true or not if Thorin hears you!”

“Relax. No ones listening.”

“Someone’s always listening.” Frerin retorted softly as he looked around again.

“So, you’re his brother. He’s not gonna turn on ya for some rumor.” Dagan scoffed.

“He doesn’t trust me right now. He won’t ignore it.”

Dagan looked at him in surprise. “Your brother doesn’t trust you?”

“It’s not like that. When I first got back this year I did something . . Well, stupid, I did something stupid and now . . .”

“He doesn’t trust ya to not do something stupid again.” Dagan finished for him as eyed him searchingly.

“More like he’s expecting it.” Frerin muttered under his breath.

“It must have been a doozy.”

“It may have involved a snake . . . and the pony.” Frerin mumbled quietly.

Dagan barked a surprised laugh. “Wow! Ya really went big, huh? So, what did he do?”

“He threatened to banish me.” Frerin admitted sullenly. “So, don’t give him any reasons to reconsider it.”

“Okay, Okay. But you know I’m right.”

Frerin glared at his friend willing him to drop the subject.

“You should go for it. I’d support you.” 

Frerin gaped incredulously. “You can’t be serious?!”

Dagan shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. There’s not enough mares to go around. It’s just a fact. So, when you find one you want, you should do whatever it takes to get her. After all, you may never find another.”

Frerin reeled at his friends words. They made sense on some level, but this was his brother! He stood no chance against Thorin! “I could never do that.”

“Why? Cause he’s yer brother? You don’t have to fight him. All you have to do is make the pony fall in love with you. Then you can run away together and start your own herd or something.”

Frerin shook his head. “Bilbo would never leave Thorin and, even if he would, Thorin would hunt me down.”

“Suit yerself. Yer loss. Don’t whine to me when you regret it later.”

Frerin head was swimming. He could never steal his brother’s mate. No honorable stallion would even consider it. He couldn’t believe Dagan had even suggested it. He was probably just messing with him, trying to get Frerin worked up. His friend seemed to like doing that.

And why was he even thinking any of this? He didn’t want the pony. He wasn’t in love with Bilbo . . . Was he? He had just been avoiding him because . . because he resented him? Not anymore. Because Bilbo was scared of him? Only because Frerin always scowled at him. He could fix that easily enough. Because he feared his brother? But why? They were family now; there was nothing wrong with engaging the pony in friendly conversation. 

And being near the pony always made him feel weird. It made his heart rate jump and skip and made his stomach feel funny . . . . Mahal! Could he really be in love with his brother’s mate? Was that why he feared the Lead? Afraid he would pick up on Frerin’s feelings?

His mind continued to spin. It didn’t matter what he felt. Bilbo would never be his. There wasn’t even any point in acknowledging his desires. . . . But the pony had seemed pleased by his words. Perhaps he could have something, not what his brother had, of course, but maybe he could win some of the pony’s affections. They were family, after all. 

Was it wrong to want something? Even if it was only a friendship or family bond? Frerin feared such closeness would only feed his desire, but he didn’t think he could ignore his growing desire to have some closeness with Bilbo. Besides it would put him on better terms with the rest of the family if he became friendly with Bilbo. Thorin shouldn’t suspect any untoward affections after Frerin’s recent behavior. 

Frerin’s thoughts swung back to that brilliant smile the pony had bestowed upon him after only a few pleasant words. He would never want to get between his brother and his mate, but, Mahal help him, he wanted more of those sweet smiles. Perhaps his brother would grant him that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time!: Thorin's herd enjoys a time of peace. Dagan reveals more than he should and Fili and Kili get up to some mischief.


	21. Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some peace before the storm. ;)
> 
> As always, if you have any scene requests, I'd love to hear them.

Bilbo slowly slipped into wakefulness as he gradually became more aware of soft caresses and quiet murmurings. He yawned and stretched, legs sticking out stiffly, as the world came back into focus. Thorin was all but draped over him, though being careful not to rest his weight on him, rubbing gentle circles onto his belly while nuzzling and murmuring softly into Bilbo’s side.

Bilbo grinned at the sight. “Morning.” He nickered sleepily.

“Morning, Beloved. Did I wake you?”

“Mm-mm.”

Thorin paused in his caresses and lay his ear against Bilbo’s side. Bilbo wasn’t very far along by centaur standards, He wasn’t even showing yet, but it didn’t stop Thorin from trying to detect any signs of their little one on a regular basis.

“Hear anything?”

“Yes . . . A great gurgling.” Thorin chuckled as Bilbo swatted at him with a huff.

“Then feed me or you will hear it even without trying.”

Thorin placed a kiss to Bilbo’s barrel with a chuckle before scooting up to him for a proper kiss. “Anything for my two most precious.”

Bilbo beamed at him, helpless to do anything but return the adoration. He pulled Thorin down for one more slow kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud gurgle. 

Thorin pulled away with a chuckle and got up to retrieve his mate some breakfast. Bilbo sat himself up, in no hurry to get moving for the day. He had never been much of a morning person, but lately it was getting harder and taking longer for him to wake up fully in the mornings. 

Thorin sat back down next to his mate and handed him his Lembas breakfast. Bilbo swallowed down the first leaf quickly but slowed down to take his time with the second one while Thorin ate his jerky.

“I hear Frerin has been more pleasant to you of late.” Thorin spoke after finishing his breakfast and washing it down with his waterskin. 

Bilbo hummed in confirmation as he licked sweet sap of his fingers. After Bilbo had worked up the courage to speak with him that first time, Frerin’s attitude seemed to shift towards him. He wasn’t outright avoiding Bilbo any more and would often acknowledge or greet him in passing. 

“And Dagan?”

Bilbo gulped down some water before answering. “He is always with Frerin, but he is always pleasant. More talkative than Frerin, though.”

“Has he said anything to make you upset?” Or suspicious, he wanted to add, but he didn’t want to burden his mate with his own concerns. 

Bilbo hummed in thought. “Not really. He is a . . flatterer? He gives lots of compliments.”

A scowl crept onto Thorin’s face. “As if he were trying to earn your favor?”

“More like he’s trying to seem friendly, I think.” Bilbo sighed. “I can’t read his eyes so I can’t be sure of his intent, but he hasn’t said anything suggestive. I always have someone with me when we talk and Frerin is always with him.”

“You will tell me if he says anything you are uncomfortable with?” Thorin sought reassurance. 

Bilbo twisted around to look at his stallion. “Yes.” He gave his mate a tender smile. “I would not be parted from you.”

Thorin felt some of his tension drain from him and he nuzzled Bilbo affectionately. Bilbo understood his concerns, and, despite his compassionate nature, he recognized the potential dangers of a wayward stallion and was being appropriately cautious. Just knowing as much made Thorin considerably less apprehensive. “Thank you . . for being cautious.”

Bilbo grinned at him happily and rolled over to face his stallion. Thorin met him half-way as they came together for slow, gentle kiss. “I love you.” Bilbo nuzzled and snuggled into him. 

“And I you.”

~~~~~~

Thorin wandered around the camp silently overseeing camp affairs. He didn’t have to do much, mostly just keeping himself up to date on who was doing what and where. There were actually few concerns lately. Thanks to Bilbo’s stew, their meat had been lasting longer and their bellies had been more content than they could remember them ever being.

The mares were safe and happy. Bilbo’s health was greatly improved and his pregnancy was going well. The migration was on schedule and they had encountered no hostilities so far. Even The new stallion seemed to be adjusting well within the herd, faithfully seeing to his duties and quickly befriending other stallions in the herd. 

That didn’t mean Thorin trusted him, of course, only that he was beginning to seem more legit. Thorin glanced around, noticing said stallion hovering around the food wagons. Instantly suspicious, he trotted heavily towards him.

“What are you doing?!”

Dagan’s gaze shot around in surprise to meet the Lead Stallion. “My job.”

“What?”

Dagan shifted on his feet. “I was assigned guard today. Got stuck with the wagons.”

“I would think you would prefer to be out hunting with Frerin.” Thorin as relieved, but still slightly tensed. This was his mate’s sole food source in one of these wagons.

“I would. Guarding's hardly my task of choice.” He emphasized with a yawn. “But Frerin said he needed a break and Dwalin wasn’t about to let me go out on my own. So, here I am.” He shrugged. 

“And you were not assigned guard duty with Frerin?” Thorin pushed. Frerin was responsible for keeping an eye on him.

Dagan looked slightly exasperated at the question. “I like yer brother, so no offense, but sometimes I need a break, yeah? He can be a bit excitable. Dwalin let me have guard duty alone for good behavior so far.”

Thorin’s lips twitched up. Frerin could certainly be a handful. “I thought you two were good friends.”

“Oh, sure. He’s a great guy. Bit of a dreamer though, if ya know what I mean. A little more ambitious than I can keep up with.”

“Frerin has always felt the need to prove his worth.” Thorin nodded. “It has spurred many unnecessary rivalries between us.”

Dagan hummed in understanding. “Well, That certainly explains a lot. No doubt it gets him into quite a lot of trouble, huh? Being the ambitious dreamer that he is, I guess he can’t help but set his sights on what he can’t have.” He hummed thoughtfully.

Thorin’s brows pulled together in confusion. “He is a prince. There is little he cannot have.”

“It wouldn’t matter if he was the Lead, there will always be things he can’t have.” Dagan scoffed. “It just makes more sense now that he would want it, ya know?”

Thorin’s countenance darkened on suspicion. There was only one thing that a centaurs hoarded to themselves, nearly everything else was easily shared, only mares were fiercely guarded and hoarded from others. “No, I don’t. To what are you referring?” 

“Oh, I’m not - not referring to anything in particular.” Dagan faltered. “I’m sure that Frerin wouldn’t act dishonorably. I’m just saying, it explains his tastes in . . things.” He ended weakly. 

“And do you share his . . taste in ‘things’ as well?” Thorin glared darkly at him. There was no doubt in his mind what they were talking about now.

Dagan’s eyes went wide at being found out before he grinned and chuckled. “Are we talking about the pony now? He is an adorable little thing. I don’t think any stallion in this camp could honestly say otherwise. But I know when I’m beat. I’m more a realist than a dreamer. And I’m afraid I don’t stand much of a chance against you.”

Thorin’s glare didn’t lessen, but a part of him thrummed in satisfaction at the admission. “And you believe Frerin thinks he does?”

Dagan’s eyes went wide again. “No! Oh no! That’s not what I was saying! Honor is very important to Frerin. I’m sure he would never do anything that would shame himself or his family . . . . intentionally.” He added quietly.

Thorin glared at the stallion searchingly. He didn’t know how much he could trust coming from this stranger but neither was it information that he could simply ignore. Dagan did likely have access to more open information from Frerin than anyone else right now and he hadn’t said anything maliciously. Perhaps there was some truth to his words.

Still, he would not trust a stranger’s words blindly. “Guard well. I will not be forgiving should any harm come to our food stores while you are on watch.” Thorin warned gravely and turned to leave. 

Dagan gave a mock salute as the Lead turned away and returned to keeping watch.

Thorin resumed his walk through the camp, his mind turning over the things Dagan had said seeking the truth. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Frerin had finally realized that Thorin had something he wanted. Frerin had always envied him and he had suspected it was only a matter of time before Frerin coveted his mate.

But he would not accept a stranger’s word for it. He would rely on his own observations and keep an even closer eye on his brother. He doubted Frerin would intend to do anything dishonorable, but he wasn’t exactly a prime specimen of self-control either. 

He sighed to himself as he thought of his brother. Why did things seem to constantly come between them? Just then, he heard a very familiar distressed squeal from the other side of camp. He was barreling towards the sound before anyone else could even react.

~~~~~

Bilbo rested in the field, idly pulling at the long grasses and weaving them together in a rough crown. He had been feeling a bit winded and drowsy today, so he had opted to spend most of the day resting with his nephews to keep him company. 

He had been trying to teach them the basics of flower crown weaving but they had quickly grown bored and found other ways to entertain themselves. Currently they were draped over his back nuzzling and rubbing in his curly coat.

“Mahal! Your curls are so soft, Uncle Bilbo!” Kili buried his face in a patch of curls over Bilbo’s shoulder. 

Fili ran his hand up Bilbo’s back, marveling at the feel of the curls slipping through his fingers. “Your so . . fluffy.”

Bilbo just chuckled and continued his weaving. He was getting quite used to the constant petting because of his curls. Of course, only his close family and the mares could get away with it. His nephews got away with it because they were still young and closely related, and even little Gimli had spent his share of time playing in Bilbo’s curls. 

The mares were perhaps the worst though, they insisted on grooming him almost daily when they were camped and he had the feeling it was more an excuse to play with his coat than anything. 

Not that he minded. Shirelings were a very social race, pregnant bearers being the most needy. The constant affectionate touches and interactions were wonderfully soothing and he welcomed them whenever appropriate (obviously not just any stallion was allowed to touch him). Thorin’s touches were always the best and he sought them as often as he could get them. 

But this was good too. His nephews gently wrapped around him, snuggling into his curly coat. He giggled as someone’s fingers grazed over his side. “Stop that.” He turned and ordered sternly.

“Stop what?” Kili looked confused before Fili’s fingers ran over the spot again making the pony squirm and fight another giggle. 

His nephews' eyes went wide before narrowing with mischievous intent, wicked grins sprouting on their faces.

Bilbo put on his sternest face. “Don’t you dare.” He warned lowly.

His only warning was one last brush against his side, as if confirming their target, before his nephews attacked him. He yelped as fingers dug into his ticklish sides, giggles turning into uncontrollable laughter as he squirmed and tried to push his nephews away. 

“Stop!” He managed to push out between gasps and laughter, futilely trying to get to his feet and get away, rolling instead to protect at least one side only to expose his sensitive belly. 

They fell upon his newly exposed weakness, gently digging fingers into his soft belly with evil grins. Bilbo kicked and writhed under the onslaught, quickly reaching his limit. He squealed when he couldn’t take it anymore, desperate for relief and air.

The young stallions finally relented, smugly content in the results of their work. Bilbo’s legs flopped to the ground and his belly heaved for air under them as he tried to recover from the assault. 

Suddenly, thundering hoof-beats were nearly on top of them. Fili shot to his feet drawing his swords defensively while Kili braced over the pony to shield him.

“What happened?!” Frerin demanded nearly in a panic.

His nephews looked at him in confusion. He was the last stallion they expected to see charging over. “We were just having some fun with Bilbo.” Fili supplied, sheathing his swords but keeping a wary eye on his uncle.

“Fun?!” Frerin came a few steps closer to scan the pony and didn’t seem convinced by what he saw. “Are you alright, Bilbo? Did they hurt you?”

“Yes, fine.” Bilbo panted. “Wicked nephews . . Wicked fingers.” He had attempted to sit back up but had plopped back down into the grass instead.

Frerin cocked a confused brow at his nephews.

“He’s ticklish.” Kili announced with a smirk as if that explained everything as he pushed himself to his feet.

“And you were tickling him? To the point of making him squeal for help?” Frerin was not impressed.

Kili shrugged sheepishly. “We were just having fun with him.”

“He’s carrying! You could have over stressed him!”

The young stallions bristled at the accusation. “We were being careful! Why do you care anyway?! Since when did you get so serious?” Fili counter hotly. Frerin was the only one who had actually caused the pony any harm, he didn’t have the the grounds to be scolding them.

Frerin stepped back in shock at the words. Before he had to come up with an excuse a new set of hooves came thundering towards them. Thorin nearly rammed his nephew out of the way as he skidded to a stop beside his mate laying sprawled out on the ground.

“What happened?!” He demanded with the authority that Frerin lacked.

“Everything’s fine, Uncle.” Kili reassured even as he pranced out of his uncle’s way.

“We were just playing with Bilbo, though we might have taken it a bit too far.” Fili explained.

Taken what to far?!” Thorin plopped down next to his pony to help as Bilbo was finally trying to roll back upright, still out of breath but not panting as harshly now.

His nephews shrugged sheepishly at their uncles searching glare. “He’s very ticklish.” Fili said. “And Frerin’s already yelled at us so -“ Kili started.

“Frerin?” Thorin looked around. 

“Yeah,” his nephews joined his searching. “He was here just a second ago.”

As they were looking Dwalin, Bofur and Dis each came galloping into the clearing. “What happened?!” Dis echoed Dwalin by mere seconds.

“Your sons were tormenting my mate, is what happened.” Thorin said with just an edge of humor as he assessed Bilbo to be unharmed, if out of breath. Bilbo flopped back into him, worn out from the battle he thoroughly lost.

“What?!” Dis turned on her sons.

“We were just having fun with him. We were very gentle, we promise.” Fili explained for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Having fun how?” She crosses her arms ready to scold them.

Before they could answer, Bilbo stood up shakily. “Wicked troublemakers is what they are. Attacking a pony’s tender spots is hardly fair conduct.” He griped though the slight curl of his lips belied his tone. “Excuse me, I think I need a nap.”

Thorin chuckled and moved to escort him back to their tent, leaving the others staring at the young stallions questioningly.

They just shrugged again and answered together. “He’s ticklish.”

Dis raised her eyebrows at the two and Dwalin just turned back to the camp with a snort. Bofur followed him back with a chuckle, leaving Dis with her wayward sons. She fought down a smirk of her own and stared them down sternly. “Let him breathe next time. Lack of air isn’t good for the foal.” She finally said with a twinkle of mischief in her own eyes.

Her colts grinned to each other conspiratorially and followed her back to camp.

~~~~~

The next evening, Bilbo made a large pot of stew, having finally dug up enough potatoes to make it. He stood patiently scooping out stew into everybody’s bowls as they came to him. He was just about to sit to eat his own dinner when Dagan hurriedly trotted into the camp center with Frerin not far behind him.

“Are we too late?” He asked breathlessly. “Of course we would be stuck out hunting on the day you make your stew.” He chatted as Bilbo filled his bowl. “See? I told you we could make it if we hurried.” He slapped Frerin’s arm companionably. 

Frerin didn’t reply but handed his bowl to Bilbo almost sheepishly. Bilbo happily filled it before returning it. Frerin mumbled his thanks and Bilbo finally moved to settle down next to his mate and eat.

Dagan was already sipping from his bowl and humming in appreciation. He sat down at several paces away from the pony, leaving the only open space right next to Bilbo. Frerin looked at Thorin apprehensively before cautiously moving to sit in the open space by his brother’s mate.

Dagan made quite a show of his enjoyment of the pony’s handiwork, heaping praises and wonderments on Bilbo’s skills and quickly making friends with many of the Lead’s friends and family. “Can you believe I nearly had to fight with this guy to convince him to come and get some of this?” He gestured to Frerin and the stew respectively, shaking his head.

“So, Frerin tells me you two are quite the pranksters.” He address the young stallions with a mischievous smirk. “What was your best prank?”

Fili and Kili seemed to instantly warm up to him as they regaled everyone with their mischievous adventures. 

“Remember that one time we dyed Dwalin’s axes pink?” Fili snickered.

Kili busted out laughing. “If we had dyed them a few shades darker, they would have matched the color of his face when he found out!”

Dwalin humphed unimpressed as the others shared in the laughter at his expense.

“Or what about that time we tied those guards’ tails together.” Kili added. “You should have seen their faces when we sounded a fake alert.”

“I almost thought they were going chop their own tails off!” Fili chortled.

“What about you? Ever pulled a prank?” Kili smirked, hoping for some good stories and maybe even better ideas.

Dagan chuckled at the eagerness. “I’ve done my share, but the best one I ever pulled was on this cranky old stallion. He was the grumpiest old sort you’d ever meet and he wasn’t all that fond of me. So, well, I guess I wanted to get back at him a bit. One day I found him snoozing on the job, he was supposed to be guarding the food stores, so I sneaked up and braided his tail.”

There was a collection of scandalized gasps at the admission. “And the best part? He didn’t even notice for three days! He walked around with a braided tail for three days! I couldn’t believe it! I almost gave myself away every time I saw him, I wanted to laugh so hard!”

Fili and Kili’s incredulous looks devolved into laughter at the image of a cranky old stallion wondering around with a mare’s braid for three days. “How could he not notice?” Fili wondered in disbelief.

Dagan just shrugged. “Beats me if I know. But, I bet Frerin here’s got stories that would put me to shame.” He elbowed said stallion who grunted at the impact and shrugged in response. 

“Like that time he replaced all my arrows with sticks. I pulled one out to shoot a boar and nearly put it through my own hand it startled me so bad.” Dagan side-eyed his friend.

His nephews found it funny enough, but Frerin didn’t look too pleased by the story. After his last prank went so horribly wrong, his past successes hadn’t felt so great. Even more so now, he had been doing his best to prove himself more responsible and trustworthy. If the pony had something to do with it, well, that was nobody’s business but his.

Dagan shrugged at his friends lack of interest in the subject and went back to comparing stories with the young stallions. Frerin sent a cautious glance to the pony at his side who would occasionally giggle or gasp incredulously at their stories while he ate his Lembas.

Thorin was speaking to Balin when Bilbo turned to him as if feeling the weight of his gaze. The pony smiled encouraging. “Thank you . . . For yesterday.” He said softly.

Frerin’s brows scrunched in confusion. “For what?”

“For coming to check on me. You were the first there . . To see if I was alright.”

Frerin couldn’t help the soft blush from creeping over his skin. “Don’t mention it. I was just doing my job.” 

Bilbo grinned again, undeniably pleased with being on speaking terms with the stallion though Frerin couldn’t imagine why.

Frerin looked up, feeling his brother’s gaze on him and met his dark, calculating eyes only briefly before returning his attention to his nearly empty bowl. He knew he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but he still didn’t want to give his brother any reason to question his change in attitude towards the pony.

The night wound down and everyone returned to their tents or duties. Dagan shoved Frerin as they walked back to their tent. “So? Did you talk to him?” He grinned playfully.

Frerin glared at him. He should have know Dagan was up to something. “A little.”

Dagan snorted. “I saw the smile he gave you. You might even have half a chance.”

Frerin shook his head. “He was just being friendly.”

Dagan shrugged. “Whatever. Could always lead to more though.”

Frerin shook his ahead again. “No, it can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Wolves have the herd on edge and chaos erupts.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyone here play Ovipets? I'm a project maker and I'm thinking about making my HoD characters (in animal form, of course). Feel free to look me up (Domestic Goddess) if you play. If you're not a player and you'd like to check it out, here's a link. [Ovipets](http://ovipets.com/#!/?ref=4730015)


	22. Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I've been on a roll with this one lately! Almost finished with what I'm calling the 'Dagan arc' in my head. XD Not turning out quite how I had originally planned (will tell you more about that later . . spoilers! ;P), but I'm okay with it. No, I won't be posting any faster than usual. I'm trying to get ahead so I can start working on one of my other ideas (several have been hounding me endlessly to write them).
> 
> [Dagan's Profile](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628423/chapters/35243303) has been posted.
> 
> This month's Sneak Peek: [The Blind Burglar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/36089274)  
> 'A burglar of great skill.' The wizard said. 'Best in the business.' He said. 'Would decide the fate of their quest.' He said. And here they were in the land of _halflings_ , in the home of a gentle hobbit who looked like he had never worked a hard day in his life. What was that blasted wizard thinking?! And why was the hobbit acting so . . peculiar? Who needed a bloody walking stick in their own home?! And what was up with his . . . wait. Mahal's beard! Was the hobbit really blind?! Thorin was going to have words with a certain wizard.
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin; Blind!Bilbo; Protective!Thorin

Another two weeks of traveling east along the river and they were settling down again. The trip had been mostly uneventful save for the occasional howling of wolves that could be heard in the distance. 

Most of the herd had been undisturbed by the sounds, but poor Bilbo had been a bundle of nerves since the first long howl had ghosted over their group. He acted much the same all those months ago when they had first found the pony, but, after learning about his mate’s past, Thorin understood his fear now. He would take extra precautions for Bilbo's sake.

_~Frerin~_

He stood and waited at the center of camp. He and nearly every other stallion in the herd. Thorin has called them together the first morning after settling the camp but he had yet to emerge from his tent. Probably busy comforting his mate. 

Frerin frowned at the images his thoughts conjured. Bilbo had been particularly twitchy and uneasy lately. He glanced around suspiciously, surely he wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Anyone who was paying attention could see the way Bilbo’s feet pranced like he was only a spook away from running for dear life.

His smile had been strained and nervous, his ears and tail twitching at every sound. Frerin’s mind helpfully offered up an image of Thorin covering the pony in soothing caresses. He shook his head to dislodge the image and the feelings of envy it inspired. 

Thorin finally stepped out of his tent. Hopefully the purpose of this assembly would shed some light on the pony’s condition. Frerin only hoped it wasn’t serious. 

“I’ve summoned you all this morning to bring some new concerns to your attention.” Thorin address the group as he paced before them. “As you are all aware, wolves have been heard within range of our herd and camp for the past week. Normally, such an occurrence would warrant little more than a slightly increased diligence as wolves pose little threat to us Khazad. But things have changed and we have new things to consider.”

“You mean yer mate?” Dagan interrupted. “I think we’ve all noticed how upset he’s been recently. His smaller size puts him at greater risk, even more so his condition.”

Thorin sent the stallion a glare for interrupting. “It is true that ponies are more vulnerable to attacks from wolves. And you are correct that his safety is one of my concerns, but he is not the only tempting feature of our herd. The goats offer a tantalizing temptation for a pack a wolves and we can not afford to risk losing any valuable resources.”

Frerin glanced at Dagan suspiciously. He seemed to know a lot about ponies. Maybe it was because he was from the west as well. But that explained a lot. If wolves often preyed on ponies, it would explain Bilbo’s uneasiness at knowing they were around.

“As our guards and hunters, I am asking you to take extra precautions to safeguard the welfare of this heard. Those on guard duty must be extra vigilant, especially those in charge of watching over the goats and food stores. As to my mate, he will not be venturing any farther than the flock in order to make your jobs easier.”

“Hunters be extra careful as you hunt. You are valuable and necessary to our herd. Under normal circumstances, wolves are no match for any one of us, but there are always exceptions. Keep to your pairs, do not risk yourselves unnecessarily. Gut and bleed your kills far away from the camp and be careful to leave as small a scent trail as possible as you return. If you see any sign of the pack, be sure to inform me upon your return. Do not hesitate to kill any wolves you encounter, but do not engage recklessly.”

“Guards, you will each be supplied with a horn. Sound the alarm immediately should any wolves come in sight. If they get that close, they have likely already chosen a target. All of you be diligent and keep your eyes and ears open. Slackers will suffer by increased rationing. Am I understood?!”

The camp rang with an enthusiastic affirmative and Thorin dismissed them back to their duties. The assembly broke, each stallion wandering away to his post. Frerin paused as Bilbo emerged from the Lead’s tent, looking nervous and sheepish, as if grateful but embarrassed for the added protection. Thorin wrapped around his little mate and Frerin turned away, he had to catch up with Dagan for hunting duty.

About an hour later, they were traipsing through a copse of trees, looking for signs of any wild boar to track and hunt. 

“We should spit up.” Dagan said suddenly. 

Frerin’s head shot up in disbelief. “Thorin specifically told us not to split up.”

Dagan gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you afraid of a few wolves, Frerin?”

“Of course not! That’s not the point! Thorin told us not to split up!” 

Dagan rolled his eyes. “Oh please, he only said that to make sure the rookies and incompetents would be safe. A few wolves are nothing to seasoned hunters like us. Besides, since when do ya care what yer brother says or are ya just trying to earn good behavior points with yer pony?”

Frerin blushed and spluttered. So what if he was trying to be more respectable lately! If Bilbo had anything to do with it, it was no one else’s business! “And why exactly do you think splitting up is a good idea?!” He challenged when he couldn’t think of anything to properly defend himself.

“Like I said, we’re seasoned hunters. We can track boar and look out for wolves just fine on our own. If we split up we can cover more ground, increase our chances of actually finding the pack, then we can tell yer brother exactly where the wolves are coming from.” Dagan reasoned.

Frerin bit his lip as he considered what his friend was proposing. They could cover more ground that way and they were both experienced with dealing with wolves. And it would look good to be able to give his brother something concrete on the invisible threat that seemed to be hovering around their herd. He might even be grateful, might even be impressed. Bilbo might be impressed.

“Alright, but we have to be smart about it. If Thorin finds out we went against his instructions, he won’t be pleased no matter what information we bring back.”

Dagan just rolled his eyes and shook his head at Frerin’s concerns. 

“We have to leave and enter the camp together. That means we have to meet up before we return. We’ll split up to hunt then we’ll meet up at the small copse of trees just south of the camp no later than sundown to head back. If we find anything we can report it when we get back.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. And I suppose you’ll be the designated informer should we find anything.” Dagan drawled. 

“Well, we will both need to tell him, but I can speak for us both, if you want.” Frerin faltered at his friend’s tone.

“Naw, It’s fine. You can tell him. He already doesn’t like me anyway.” Dagan shrugged.

“Well, if we find something to tell him, he might appreciate you more.” Frerin encouraged. 

“He might, except you’ll be taking the credit to impress yer brother’s mate, won’t ya.”

Frerin’s brows furrowed in confusion and concern. It wasn’t like Dagan to act snappy like this. “I-I wouldn’t take credit that was rightfully yours.”

Dagan raised an unimpressed brow at him before shaking his head. “Look, sorry, I guess I’m just concerned for the herd and yer pony. We should get out there and see what we can find.”

Frerin nodded, easily accepting the apology. He was worried too, for Bilbo and the foal. Mahal, it wasn’t even his and he found himself fretting over its health and safety. “Alright, I’ll meet you at the copse, then.” 

Dagan gave him a tight nod before heading off in a different direction. Frerin turned his attention back to the hunt and wandered off in the opposite direction.

_~Thorin~_

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from his mate who was standing uneasily amidst the flock of goats, trying to be productive despite his nervousness. As much as he would prefer to do nothing but stand watch over his love, he had other things he needed to take care of. 

Even after several days, the hunters had yet to bring back any report of the wolves despite the howls seeming to creep closer every night. Today’s hunting parties should be returning soon. He would check in with them once again as he did everyday. Eventually someone was bound to spot the pack. 

He wandered over to the area just outside of camp set up for preparing the meat brought back from the hunts. Someone was already there, cutting up a boar into strips. Thorin sped up into a trot as he recognized Dagan. 

“Where is Frerin?” He immediately asked upon noticing the Dagan was alone.

“Don't know.” Dagan shrugged irreverently, not even bothering to look up at the Lead. 

“What?” Thorin growled low and threatening. 

Dagan finally looked up. “I don’t know. He was late so I came back without him.”

“What are you talking about? You should have been together. I specifically told you not to split up! You left him out there alone?!”

Dagan got to his feet. “Look, it was his idea okay. Took off saying something about finding the wolves and impressing the pony. Said I could take care of myself, so I did. ”

“And you just let him go alone?!” 

“Its my duty to hunt, not follow his arse around looking for wolves.”

Thorin’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. He need to reign himself in. But of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do! And for Bilbo’s favor?! Bilbo was mated, to Thorin! Frerin had no business seeking his favor! “Did you see any signs of the wolves?” He forced out more evenly.

“No, but maybe Frerin managed to find them.”

“I will deal with Frerin. Let him know I expect to see him as soon as he gets back!” Thorin barked out the order before turning and stomping off. Of all the times for his brother to pull another stunt, Now was the worst!

_~Frerin~_

He waited at the copse until well after sundown. Dagan was late. He should have arrived hours ago. Could something have happened? Maybe splitting up wasn’t such a good idea. But they’d been doing so for the past four days without any problems.

He waited until the light in the sky started to dim. He couldn’t wait any longer. If Dagan really was missing, Frerin was going to have to tell Thorin. He shuddered at the thought of having to explain how Dagan could have gone missing to his brother. 

He hurried into camp. He needed to drop off his kill before he sought out his brother. He went around the outskirts of the camp, not wanting to invite questions as to why he was back so late. Just as he was nearing the kill dressing area, a familiar stallion caught his eye.

He trotted over to him, anger quickly replacing his fear and concern. “What are you doing here?!” He hissed when he was within range. 

“Oh, there you are. It’s about time. What took you so long?” Dagan asked innocently.

“Are you kidding me?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours! What happened to meeting up and coming back to camp together?! What if Thorin noticed you came back alone?!” He whispered loudly, trying not to attract attention. 

Dagan shrugged. “I got tired of waiting. Relax. The Lead’s too busy to keep track of every stallion in the herd. He didn’t notice anything.” Dagan reassured. “Did you see the wolves?”

“No. I take it you didn’t either?” Frerin turned to head back to the dressing area to start skinning and preparing his kill. 

Dagan just shrugged as he followed after him. 

“Are you sure Thorin didn’t notice anything?” Frerin asked again concerned.

“Sure, I’m sure. I’d tell ya if yer arse was on the chopping block.”

“Gee, thanks.” Frerin snarked sarcastically. His arse wouldn’t even be at risk of being on the chopping block if Dagan had kept to their agreement. They both know if Thorin found out it would be Frerin who got the brunt of his anger.

They next morning they got started extra early. They had agreed that the wolves sounded to be getting closer and closer and they wanted to get out there early to cover more ground. 

“Alright, I’ll see ya at the copse.” Dagan said as he started to head off in his own direction. 

“I think we should stay together today.” Frerin immediately contradicted. 

Dagan turned around, his face blank but his eyes gleaming with something Frerin couldn’t place. “Why? Because of yesterday? Look, I had a rock in my hoof and I had to get back to the camp to take care of it. I won’t do it again.”

Frerin shook his head. “I just think it would be best if we stuck together.”

“We’ve been doing just fine on our own for the past several days.”

“Yes, but the wolves are getting closer. If it’s a big pack it could be tough to fight them off alone.” Frerin reasoned. 

Dagan sighed as he walked back over to his friend. “Alright, how about this? We split up today and see what we can find. If we don’t find anything today or if we run into any problems, we’ll stick together tomorrow.” 

Frerin took a moment to consider the proposal. They hadn’t found anything yet. One more day should be okay, especially if they stayed closer to the camp. “Fine, but we don’t venture as far today. We stay closer to the camp.”

Dagan nodded in agreement. “Fair enough.” He started to walk off in the direction he had gone before. “Oh, and Frerin,” He turned back briefly, “stop trying to be like yer brother. Authority don’t suit ya.”

Frerin’s brows furrowed in confusion at the barbed words as his friend walked away. He knew he wasn’t suited to Lead like Thorin, but that didn’t mean he had to be a push over. Maybe Dagan just didn’t appreciate that it was him he was trying to be firm with. But, we’ll, Frerin was responsible for him, suited for it or not. He sighed and turned to head in the other direction. He couldn’t help but feel like there was a rift forming between him and his friend.

_~Thorin~_

“Where is Frerin?!” He bellowed through the camp. Frerin should have checked in with him the night before and he was fed up with his irresponsible foolishness. He had looked for him all morning with no success.

“Some of the stallions saw 'im and Dagan headin’ our early this mornin’.” Dwalin stepped up to offer an answer. 

“Of all the stupid, childish . .” He grumbled. “Inform me immediately when he returns!” 

After receiving an affirmative, Thorin stomped away. The howls last night had sounded nearly right outside the camp. His poor mate had spent the night curled up and trembling in his arms. Even now he was back in their tent buried under several furs refusing to come outside. 

It was just as well. He was safer tucked away at the center of the camp. The chances of any wolves getting that far and choosing their tent specifically was slim to none. But having his mate so stressed still put Thorin in a right foul mood. 

He was heading back to comfort his mate when an alarm horn sounded over the camp. It was coming from where the goats were being kept. Thorin thundered through the camp, along with nearly every other stallion, responding to the call to arms. 

When he emerged into the field, he stopped short. There was chaos everywhere! The goats were bleating and scattering everywhere making them more vulnerable to the large pack of wolves that were running about trying to avoid the defending stallions and still make a kill.

The stallions were in disarray. Floundering between retrieving the goats and fending off the wolves. Thorin immediately jumped into the fray shouting orders, designating which stallions to each job as he charged at a group of wolves making them scatter. 

Finally, the stallions recovered and began working as one but the wolves were persistent. Just when Thorin thought they had pushed them into retreat, they doubled back around for another attempt.

Dwalin had charged into a group and was surrounded as he swung his massive war hammer low to the ground. Thorin charged over to aid him, catching one of the wolves by surprise and trampling it under his heavy hooves. “How many?!” He shouted at his close friend.

“Too many!” The other stallion replied even as he swung at another wolf. “Five down at least and still this many aimin’ for them goats!”

Thorin cursed under his breath before spotting a wolf coming up behind him in his peripheral vision. He kicked, his hoof connecting with the wolf’s skull and dropping it stone dead.

“I’ve never seen so many in a single pack!” Thorin shouted in confusion as he and Dwalin began backing up to close the circle around what was left of their goat herd.

“I don’t think it is just one! They move like three distinct groups!” Dwalin shouted back.

Finally, the wolves began to thin out, Thorin and Dwalin leaving a trail of dead ones in their wake. The survivors seem to wise up and turned tail and ran. Thorin immediately spurred the stallions into action. Stray goats needed to be searched for, damages needed to be assessed, carcasses needed to be skinned and dressed. 

Thorin cleaned off his sword as he oversaw his heard bustling to assess and repair the damages. A stallion ran over with a wolf headcount followed right after with one bearing a report on the state of their flock. 

Most of the goats had been spared, but they had had two casualties and three more that were unaccounted for. He sent out search parties for the missing ones directly, not wanted to risk them being found by the retreating wolves. 

Two goats lost wasn’t that bad after an attack of this size, but Bilbo would still be upset. He loved his goats. Mahal! Bilbo! Thorin started trotting back to his tent. His little mate must be terrified, no doubt the sounds of the battle had reached his sensitive ears. But thank Mahal, he hadn’t been with the goats. Thorin would have had a heart attack.

Dis caught him on his way. “What happened?!”

“Wolf attack. Looks like three packs, lost two goats, three missing.” He slowed but didn’t stop. 

She fell in beside him. “Three packs? Does that even happen?”

“Apparently.” Not really. Wolves had territories. Something would have had to intervene to bring three packs to the same area for such an attack. Lack of prey could contribute to it but it would take something bigger than that.

“Thank Mahal Bilbo wasn’t out there. He’s stressed enough as it is.” 

Thorin nodded at the echo of his own thoughts. “I need to go to him.” He paused just outside his tent. 

“Of course.” She nodded. “I will aid in overseeing.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled before disappearing into his tent. He dropped his weapons and started stripping off his armor. Bilbo always sought out skin to skin contact when he was particularly distressed. He paused suddenly as he pushed aside the inner flap separating their bedding area from the rest of the tent. 

Their bed pallet was empty. His scanned around the tent desperately, hoping he had just missed his precious mate or that he was curled up somewhere hiding. “Bilbo?” The tent was empty. Bilbo was gone! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo is missing and all of his friends and family are scrambling to figure out where he could have disappeared to. Evidence is uncovered and it paints a disturbing picture. Will they discover who's responsible before it's too late?
> 
> So, I've started my first HoD project on Ovipets. Here's a preview of my first of the HoD project series: Dwalin.  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> He won't be done for awhile, since Equus hatch slowly, but this is more-or-less what he will look like, though I may decide to change something here or there.
> 
> Check out Ovipets [Here](http://ovipets.com/#!/?ref=4730015)


	23. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I officially finished the Dagan arc putting me 10 chapters ahead (counting this one), so I am shifting gears to work on ['Of Cold Hearts'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262672/chapters/32894844) for a while.
> 
> I added a popularity ranking to Sneak Peaks to give you an idea of which stories will be coming out first. [Check it out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/41721455)

Frerin knelt down to look at some tracks in the dirt. He had almost missed them. It was only because he was looking for anything out of the ordinary that he managed to spot them. He pressed into the soft indent with two fingers. Wolf prints. Definitely wolf prints. 

His excitement at having finally found something was immediately doused by concern. They were far too close to the camp. If he strained his ears, he could almost hear the bleating of the goats on the wind. These tracks looked fresh from the past night. The pack could already be targeting the camp at this rate.

He pushed back up to his feet. His hunt was off, he needed to find Dagan and report back to Thorin. He needed to know what direction the wolves were coming from. He started through the woods at a brisk canter, heading the direction he had seen Dagan go in. 

A blast from one of the alarm horns made him skid to a halt mid-stide. It was too late! The wolves were already making their move. He hesitated for only a moment before barreling off towards the camp. The herd was in trouble. Dagan could take care of himself.

He ran at a full gallop, fears and concerns swirling in his head, afraid of what he might find. He hadn’t seen Bilbo that morning. The goats would surely be the focal point of the pack’s attack. Was Bilbo with them? Would the foal be okay? 

He pushed faster, the relatively short distance seemingly taking forever to cover. He didn’t slow when he came within view of the camp. It seemed the whole herd was out frantically undoing the damage of what seemed to be quite a vicious attack. 

He trotted up to Bofur who was carrying a stray goat back to the camp. “What happened?!” Is Bilbo safe?!

“Wolf attack.” The usually jovial stallion answered with no trace of humor.

“One pack did all this?!” He looked around, surveying the damage. There was a pile of wolf corpses in the field waiting to be skinned and dressed, more wolves than should have been in a single pack.

“Not one. Dwalin suspects it was at least three.”

“That’s impossible!” Frerin breathed out. Wolf packs were territorial, they didn’t just . . . cooperate. 

Bofur nodded, agreeing with his disbelief. “Two goats killed. Two still missing. A few bites to go around, but no serious damage, thank Mahal.”

“And Bilbo?” Bofur side-eyed him suspiciously and Frerin swallowed thickly as he tried to appear calm. He had to ask. He had to know!

“Was in the Lead’s tent when it happened. Lead Thorin just went to find ‘im, I suspect.” Bofur provided after a moment of studying the stallion. 

They were just reaching the edge of camp when the Lead’s bellow of his mate’s name rang through the air. Frerin and Bofur each turned to the other, eyes wide with fear and concern, before bolting into camp.

_~Thorin~_

“Search the camp! Search every tent! Find him!” Thorin shouted orders at his increasingly flustered herd. Bilbo should have been in their tent. The wolves never made it this far. Maybe he went into hiding when he heard the fight. Thorin desperately hoped so, the alternative made his blood run cold.

Dis emerged from his tent behind him, having gone in to confirm the pony’s absence for herself. “This doesn’t make sense, Thorin. Bilbo wouldn’t run off unprotected unless absolutely necessary and we know no wolves made it this far. They never even entered the camp proper!”

Balin trotted up with a huff. “There’s no evidence of any Mordorians in the area and if they were responsible they wouldn’t have bothered with anything covert. They are pillagers and murderers, this isn’t their style.”

“I have stallions searching the surrounding areas for any signs of sabotage. I’d bet my beard this was no coincidence. There’s no way three packs target us all at once on accident.” Dwalin added from beside his brother. 

Just then, Bofur and Frerin burst into the camp center. “What happened?” “What’s wrong?” They questioned over each other.

“Bilbo is missing.” Thorin growled as he began to pace. His muscles were tight and quivering with the need to do something, but, in the back of his mind, he knew that, if Bilbo as still in the camp, he would have returned to his stallion at the first opportunity. No, his pony was gone and what he needed now was information. Information took time, but there was no point jumping into a rage without having a proper target. But once he had one, he would destroy it without mercy.

“What?” Frerin breathed almost brokenly. “How? Are you sure he didn’t just get scared and hide or run off or something?” 

“The wolves never made it into camp. Bilbo is too conscious of his condition to run off and he has yet to reveal himself if he is merely in hiding. No, I’m afraid this is beginning to look more and more like sabotage and mare-napping.” Balin answered when it was clear Thorin would not.

Thorin stopped in his pacing a low rumbling growl vibrating through his entire being at the verbal confirmation of his fears and suspicious. Who would dare?! Branding was too light a punishment! He would slaughter whoever dared to touch his mate!

“Have you done a head count? Is there anyone missing?” Frerin asked, eyes shifting from one to the next for an answer. 

Dwalin raised his brows and met Thorin’s eyes. “I’m on it, but some of the hunter’s are still out.”

“They should be returning after hearing the alarm sound.” Frerin volunteered as Dwalin trotted away. 

Those remaining stood in silence, each hoping that the pony would just pop up, shaken but fine. “This is all my fault. I should have stayed with ‘im.” Bofur broke the silence. 

“You were called to arms and he was in his tent. It’s not your place to accompany him there.” Balin contradicted. 

“Then I should 'ave stayed near the tent! He shouldn’t ‘ave been left here alone. It’s my job to guard 'im.” Bofur argued back.

“This is not your fault.” Thorin tried not to growl. “The fool who took him is at fault and will pay dearly for this offense.”

The Lead’s words seem to give the stallion some peace as he nodded and dropped it. 

A few more silent moments later, Dwalin barged back into the camp center carrying some bags and wearing a dark expression. “Thorin, think ye need ta see this.”

Thorin’s ears perked up. Had they found something?!

Dwalin handed over the large traveling sack. Frerin eyed it suspiciously. 

Thorin tugged it open harshly, pausing at the contents. Lembas? “Where did you find this?”

Dwalin turned his dark stare to Frerin, Thorin following his gaze. “It was found in ‘is tent. It’s ‘is bag.”

Thorin’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

“What?!” Frerin glanced between them fearfully. “No! I would never! Why would I take it?! I don’t eat it!”

Thorin’s eyes darkened with barely contained anger. “Perhaps to sustain a pony after leading him away from camp!” He challenged.

“What?” Frerin spluttered in shock. “You think I would take him? That I would set wolves upon my own herd?!”

“Maybe ye just took advantage of an opportunity.” Dwalin suggested. 

Frerin gaped at the accusations, his eyes shifting across all of their suspicious stares. “I would never do anything to hurt him . . or you like that!”

“It wasn’t so long ago you hated him! How is now any different?!” Thorin challenged.

“I don’t hate him!” Frerin defended desperately. 

“How do we know?!” 

“Because I lo- . . . I’ve learned that he is vital to the herd.” Frerin caught himself just in time, cautiously changing what he was going to say to something more benign.

The anger in Thorin’s eyes flashed regardless, as if he knew exactly what Frerin as about to say.

“If I took him, why would I still be here?”

“To avert suspicion.” Thorin answered instantly. 

“If I was planning to hurt him, I wouldn’t pack food for him. If I wanted him alive, I wouldn’t leave him out who knows where with wolves running about and I wouldn’t leave his food behind! It doesn’t make any sense, Thorin! Someone wants you to suspect me!” Frerin tried to explain though it came out more like a plea.

“The lads right. It doesn’t add up.” Balin agreed. 

Thorin swerved around to pace again, his hands clenching repetitively in distress for his mate. If it had been Frerin, there would’ve been hope. Frerin was soft-hearted by nature. Thorin didn’t doubt that he wouldn’t have harmed the pony even if he did decide to pull off some kind of distasteful prank. If it wasn’t Frerin, it made things worse. 

“Who could have had access to yer bags?” Dwalin interrogated. 

“Anyone! I’m out hunting most of the day! Anyone could sneak into my tent!” Frerin returned exasperated. 

“Aye, but who would have access to the food wagons?” Balin inserted, drawing several wide eyes. 

“The wagons are always guarded. Only those assigned to guard them could have slipped something from them without being noticed, especially from the pony’s wagon. Only a few have authorized access to it.” Dwalin supplied.

Fili and Kili trotted into the group, slightly out of breath. “The missing goats have been retrieved, but I’ve got some bad news.” Fili informed with a pant. 

“Me too! Bilbo’s nowhere in camp. I’ve checked all the best hiding places and no one’s seen him in the surrounding areas either!” Kili added with a huff. 

“One of the hunting groups just returned, they said they found evidence of kill gutting in the woods just southeast of camp. Several spots, like someone was baiting for predators!” Fili finished. 

“It’s worse than tha’.” Gloin trotted up behind them. “We found fresh carcass pieces right at the edge of the woods and evidence of it being dragged for quite a ways. Someone led those wolves straight to us.”

“By the Maker! Who would do this?” Dis breathed out, overwhelmed by it all. 

Thorin rubbed a hand down his face and over his beard, desperately trying to stay level-headed for his mate’s sake. Who would go to such lengths? “Has everyone been accounted for yet?”

“Aye. The hunting parties are back.” Dwalin paused. “I haven’t put eyes on Dagan, but I assume 'e’s back if Frerin’s here.” He turned his gaze to the stallion, Thorin's own gaze following much more darkly. 

Frerin stayed silent, pale and wide-eyed.

“He did come back with ye?” Dwalin pushed for an answer.

Thorin glared at his brother, already knowing the answer. Fear churned in his gut as his mind put together the pieces. “You and Dagan were assigned to the south, weren’t you?” He asked in a low dark tone. 

Frerin’s eyes turned to his brother. “D-Dagan wouldn’t.”

“Where is he?”

Everyone’s eyes were now on him. “W-we separated.” Frerin confessed quietly.

Dwalin’s face twisted in anger. “Ye were told not too!” 

“We knew we could handle it.” Frerin defended quietly.

“Ye were supposed ta be watching ‘im!”

“Dagan- He would’t do something like this.” Frerin defended weakly, as if he wasn’t sure he believed it himself anymore. 

“Where was he hunting?” Thorin growled. 

Frerin swallowed hard, growing even paler. “He went east, so I took west.”

Dwalin broke out into a string of harsh curses. Thorin was frozen in place, muscles clenching as blind rage and crippling fear warred inside of him. He had known better than to trust that stallion! He had warned him, threatened him, against any designs on his mate, and now Bilbo was gone and in that filth’s hands. 

“No! He wouldn’t do this! I’ve know him for years, I’ve traveled with him! I know him! He wouldn’t do something this-this . . terrible! He wouldn’t sabotage the whole herd! He wouldn’t steal someone’s mate!” Frerin defended insistently, sounding more and more like he was trying to convince himself as much as everyone else. 

“Then Where is he?!” Dwalin challenged.

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just late or maybe he got caught up with the retreating wolves or . . something! He wouldn’t do this!”

Balin sighed. “He had access to your tent and your bags, he has been assigned guard duty over the food wagons, he was assigned to hunt to the south, and you yourself have admitted that he chose the east where the bait for the wolves was found and he is now missing along with Bilbo. The evidence seems undeniable.” 

Frerin was shaking his head in disbelief. There was only so much evidence he could claim as coincidence. “But, why?! Why would he do something like this?!”

“He’s your _friend_ ,” Thorin spat the word, “you tell us!”

“He’s had his eyes on the pony from the very beginning. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was planning this all along.” Dwalin inserted. 

“What? That’s not true! He . . liked Bilbo, but everyone likes Bilbo!” Frerin continued to defend his friend despite the evidence. 

“Aye, but they don’t eye 'im up like the finest cut of fresh meat!” Dwalin rebutted. “Ye didn’t see the way 'e was watching the pony the day 'e showed up!” 

Frerin was shaking his head again, likely about to spout more defensive nonsense. 

“That’s enough!” Thorin bellowed. They were wasting time! “Dwalin! Have someone confirm the absence of Dagan’s bags! Bofur, prepare food and water! You and Dwalin will join me in pursuit. Balin and Dis, you will be in charge until we return. You will need to keep the herd moving according to schedule. We will catch up with you when we retrieve my mate. Glóin, you will be acting as Head of the Guards.”

Bofur and Dwalin immediately left to follow their orders and prepare for the hunt. Fili and Kili trotted up to their uncle. “We want to come!”

“No.” Thorin answered shortly as he disappeared into his tent to regather his armor and weapons and prepare his travel bags. 

“But, Uncle, we can help!” Kili begged for them both. 

Thorin turned to them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Help me by staying here and protecting the herd. The herd will be vulnerable in my absence. I need you here to help take care of it. To protect it. To protect your mother, and Sharli, and Gimli, and the goats. With four stallions out the herd will be short on guards and hunters.” He explained, willing the to understand. 

He could tell by the looks on their faces that they were torn. They knew the importance of caring for the herd, but they loved their ‘little uncle’ dearly. “Knowing you are here to help your mother will help put my mind at ease, help me focus on finding my mate. . . . Please.”

They were indecisive for only a moment more before their faces harder in resolve. They each nodded. “What can we do to help you now?” Fili asked, his tone serious.

“I need to know which way Dagan has taken him. A sign or a trail.” 

The young stallions nodded ripping out of his tent with determined energy.

Thorin did his best to focus on getting ready. 

~~~~~

Thorin scowled up at the sky, the sun was already starting to set and they hadn’t even started. Once the sun was down There was no hope of following a trail! Was this also part of Dagan’s plan? He growled in frustration and to hide the pain and fear lacing through him at the realization that they likely wouldn’t be able to get started before tomorrow morning. 

Bofur was setting down a pile of supply bags for their hunt nearby. Thorin was about to rebuke him and order him to travel lighter when the contents stopped him short. Several of the bags were nothing but Lembas.

Bofur noticed his scrutiny and glanced up. “I figure 'e’ll be hungry.” He said with a discreet sniff. “I’m sure that no good Dagan doesn’t realize just how big our little pony’s appetite really is.” He tried to keep his tone light. 

Thorin’s head tilted low. It wasn’t just Lembas, there were extra furs and water as well. It reminded him of Bilbo’s favorite grooming kit that Thorin had thought to grab when he packed his own pack. Anything to help ease whatever stress or discomfort they happened to find his mate in. “Thank you.”

Bofur just nodded and continued preparing the packs. Dwalin joined them shortly murmuring confirmation that Dagan’s things were in fact gone and how he was going to break every one of his legs when he found him. 

Gathered and prepared, they still had one major issue: they didn’t know which way Dagan had taken the pony and the sun was rapidly setting. 

Thorin’s muscles twitched painfully. A part of him just wanted to go! Just pick a a direction and run, but he couldn’t leave his mate’s safety to the chance that he actually managed to head in the right direction. He needed a direction! 

His nephews returned as the sun finally set. “We’re so sorry, Uncle.” Kili apologized broken-hearted. “We couldn’t find anything.” Fili confessed. 

Thorin’s eyes fell closed and his head dropped to his chest. With every passing moment it felt like the chance of finding and retrieving his mate was dwindling. He rubbed at his eyes with his hand, sorrow and loss slamming into him at the mere thought that he might not get him back, get them back! His mate and his foal.

“I know which way he went.” A familiar voice cut through his drowning despair. Thorin looked up to meet Frerin’s eyes.

Frerin’s hooves shuffled at the raw pain and sorrow in his brother’s eyes. “He went east, but there’s no point in following before the sun comes back up. Dagan’s an expert tracker. He won’t make it easy to follow him. I’ll guide you on the trail in the morning.”

“Your not coming.” Thorin bit out coldly. 

“Then you’re not going or at least you’re not gonna catch him. Dagan’s one of the best hunter/trackers I know and I’m the only one in this herd who even compares to him. Without my help you’ll never find your mate.” Frerin asserted firmly. 

Thorin continued to glare at him. 

“Please, Thorin. I know I messed up. This-this is my fault, I know that. Please let me help make it right.” Frerin pleaded softly. 

Thorin’s glare faded into a tired, broken stare. “Fine, we leave at first light. Get some rest.” He ordered the others. 

Despite what he had ordered the others, there was no sleep in sight for him. He stood at the edge of camp, staring east into the darkness all night, counting down the moments until the sun would rise and they could hunt down the traitor who stole his mate. 

His body ached from the tension in his muscles, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. His mate was out there, alone with another stallion. He was probably cold and definitely hungry. Tired and afraid and there was nothing Thorin could do about it tonight.

He tried to focus his thought on his missing mate and not on Dagan’s intentions or plans for the pony. It didn’t matter. Thorin would slaughter the stallion, as was his right. And he would retrieve his mate. Bilbo was his, no matter what happened. 

The sun slowly crept up and the others had joined him before it had even peeked over the horizon. They were all packed and ready, wearing determined yet worried expressions. 

Thorin turned to look at his brother. “Let’s go.” He order quietly, his voice rough and raw from disuse and emotion.

Frerin nodded and led them away from the camp at a brisk pace. 

The others followed behind him quickly. They were going to get their pony back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: We find out why Bilbo left the camp and a hangry Bilbo finds out a little more about his captor.
> 
> Since I have several sneak peeks ready, I figured I'd give you all the chance to pick the one that sounds most interesting to you for March. Here's what I've got for you:
> 
> The King’s Harem (Concubine!Bilbo; Explicit)  
> Wild Wings (wing!verse; Lovebird!BIlbo; Raven!Thorin)  
> One of a King (Single Parent!Bilbo; Smitten!Thorin)  
> Lost in Shadows (Devouring Ring!Verse)  
> The Crime Lord and the Warden (Modern!AU; from the prompt)  
> The Sea is My Home (Merpeople!AU; Modern!AU; Sequel to ['The Sea Calls to Me'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001684/chapters/32242623); Explicit)  
> Love at my Fingertips (Telepahic!Thorin; inspired by Yubisaki no Koi)
> 
> 'Explicit' refers to the first chapter, not the story in general. Figured you should know what you're asking for. ;)
> 
> If no one has a preference, I'll just pick one randomly. Otherwise, I will go with whichever one gets the most votes. :)


	24. Mare-Napped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every one who voted for the next sneak peak! Your comments and support are wonderful! I don't know what I'd do without you! <3
> 
> If you didn't get what you voted for this week, don't worry. They will all get posted eventually. ;)
> 
> March's Sneak Peek: [Wild Wings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/37550771)  
> Thorin wakes up wounded and confused in the home of a lovebird, a race so reclusive little is known about them. Stuck with his primitive caretaker until he recovers or is found, he struggles to overcome language barriers and cultural differences to learn about his host. Unwittingly, he finds himself growing . . attached to the little lovebird. But he's a king and he will have to return to his kingdom and Bilbo has never left his people's forest.
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin; Lovebird!Bilbo; Raven!Thorin; Cultural Differences

_~ 2 Days Ago ~_

Bilbo hopped up to his feet, tense and shaking, at the unmistakable sound of the warning horn ringing over the whole camp. Wolves?! They were under attack! He stood frozen, his fear demanding he stay as much as it pleaded for him to run. 

His mind spun in confusion as he tried to sift through the conflicting impulses. Should he hide? But he was already in the center of camp. Should he run? He would be more vulnerable out there, without protection, without cover. He needed to stay. He could not hope to outrun wolves while he was carrying, even trying could put the foal at risk. He would not run unless he had to. 

He wouldn’t run, but he couldn’t relax either. His muscles stayed tight like a spring just waiting for permission to release into action. He strained his ears, listening to the fight, trying to ascertain if it was coming closer or fading away. It seemed to be doing neither.

He shuffled as close to the center of the tent as possible. It was cover, but it was only fabric. It was hardly a solid defense. Oh, he wished his stallion was there. He eyed the door of the tent in worry. Hoping with every moment that his stallion would come charging in to defend or soothe him. He stayed quiet, hoping to go unnoticed. 

The sound of hoofbeats nearby startled him and, when the tent door whipped open suddenly, he jumped back in fearful surprise with a strained whinny. 

“Come on! We need to go!” Dagan shouted at him, eyes wide and urgent.

“What? Where?” Bilbo barely had the presence to ask even as his feet were already moving with the command.

“The wolves have breached the camp! The Lead has ordered you to be moved to safety!” Dagan rushed him as he glanced around.

Bilbo followed close behind him, the sound of his heart beating in his ears doing nothing to drown out the snarls and barks he could now easily distinguish. 

Dagan led him quickly through the camp, not giving him time to look around for threats. When they reached the edge, Bilbo hesitated, his earlier concerns of being exposed and unguarded fighting its way through his panic. “Where are we going?!” He panted, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Away from here! Now!” Dagan smacked his rear hard and Bilbo jolted forward surrendering to instinct. He ran like wolves were nipping at his heels. 

He didn’t know how long they ran for. The steady pounding of hooves behind him the only reassurance that he wasn't alone. Dagan didn’t try to stop him or slow him down, so he just kept running. 

It felt like hours before he finally came to a panting stop. His mind was clearer now, his excess energy and adrenaline having been used up on his single minded running. Dagan slowed to a stop close by, panting but not as out of breath as the pony. 

“You all right?” He asked through his heavy breaths. 

Bilbo nodded. “Stomach . . kind of . . hurts.” He pushed out between pants. 

Dagan nodded. “Catch your breath. We can’t stay here, but you can rest a bit.”

“Are we going back?” Bilbo wasn’t sure what the protocol for this sort of thing was. Could they go straight back? Surely the wolves would have been dealt with by now. But what if they hadn’t?

“No, the camp isn’t safe for now. We need to find someplace sheltered for tonight. We’ll start heading back tomorrow. That should give them time to deal with the wolves and re-secure the camp.”

Bilbo nodded hesitantly. He knew he couldn’t go back if it wasn’t safe, but he didn’t cherish the idea of being away from his mate tonight or with being alone with another stallion. But, if Thorin had trusted his safety to Dagan, then he would just have to trust in that.

After a few minutes of resting, Bilbo was mostly breathing normally again. With a flick of his hand, Dagan motion him along and started leading them away. Bilbo kept a careful distance from the stallion but followed after him. He was the only defense the pony had out here away from the camp and herd.

_~ Present Time ~_

Bilbo glared at the stallion as they walked. The first day he had been cautious, but had understood the logic in Dagan’s words. The stallion had kept his distance, found them a safe place to rest for the night, and kept watch so Bilbo could rest easier. Staying away from the danger had made sense. 

The next day, Bilbo had been concerned. He was nervous and jittery without his stallion. He needed to get back. Dagan had reassured him that that was exactly what they were going to do and they started walking. Suspicion quickly joined his concern. Bilbo wasn’t an expert hunter or tracker, he wasn’t even decent at either. But he wasn’t ignorant of basic directions. 

Much of the previous day had been a blur, especially the part where he was running for his life. But, of what little he did remember quite clearly, he distinctly remembered running _away_ from the sun. It was later in the day and the sun had been behind them when they ran, so east. They had run east. 

He was pretty sure they were still going east. He hadn’t said anything at first. He certainly wasn’t an expert and he could be just remembering things wrong. But he gained confidence over the day as things continued to remain unfamiliar. He had asked the stallion why they weren’t there yet, but Dagan had simply answered that they weren’t traveling as fast so it would take more time. By that evening, concern and suspicion had been replaced with fear. He didn’t sleep much that night.

They were still clearly heading east. Bilbo glared at the back of Dagan’s head, almost wishing he could bore holes through his skull with the effort. His fear had quickly evaporated and been replaced with irritation as they marched through the day. He wasn’t stupid. Dagan was carrying far too many packs for a quick, short-term retreat and Bilbo was certain he recognized the sweet smell of Lembas wafting from at least one of the bags. 

Bilbo’s stomach rumbled again, souring his mood even farther. He had gone almost two full days without eating. He was getting sick and tired of the stallions weak farce and just wanted to fill his belly. Maybe if he told Dagan he knew what was going on, he’d finally give him some food.

“Thorin didn’t send you, did he?” He challenged, an annoyed edge to his tone. 

Dagan turned and raised a brow in question.

“I know we’re not heading back to camp.” He clarified petulantly.

Dagan stopped and turned to face him better. “Well, I guess it’s about time you figured it out.” He answered lightly. 

“I figured it out yesterday. I may not be a tracker but I know where the sun rises and sets.” Bilbo crossed his arms and glared.

“And you’re only now mentioning it?” Dagan raised his brows in question, a small smirk on his lips at the pony’s sass. 

“I didn’t want to make hasty accusations. Besides, it’s not like it would have mattered. It’s too risky to try to make it back on my own and I doubt you would have just taken me back if I asked.” Bilbo huffed in annoyance. 

“True. So what brings you to mentioning it now?”

Bilbo scowled his ears lowered in aggravation. He jolted forward and pushed at the stallion's chest angrily. “Because I’m hungry, you idiot! And I know you have Lembas in those packs!”

Dagan leaned away in surprise, though the impact had no effect on his stance, staring at the pony. 

“It’s been almost two days! You can’t just not feed me!” Bilbo shouted up at the dazed stallion. 

Dagan barked out a laugh and Bilbo recoiled in cautious confusion. “Ya’ve got more spunk than I gave ya credit for.” He reached back and pulled a wrapped leaf from his bag. “Alright, here. If ya had said something sooner, I would’ve fed ya sooner.”

Bilbo snatched it from his hand and quickly unwrapped it. It was a dried leaf, so it would be slow eating, but it was better than nothing. He gave the stallion another glare as he nibbled off a small piece into his mouth. 

Dagan moved to walk closer next and slightly behind the pony. “Come on. You can eat while we walk.” He accentuated with a slap to the pony’s rear. 

Bilbo jolted forward with an indignant whinny before kicking out in retaliation. Dagan cursed when Bilbo’s kick clipped his leg. “Hey!” He shouted angrily. 

“Stop slapping me! I’m perfectly capable of responding to words!” Bilbo lashed back.

Dagan chuckled, his ire already disappeared. “That’s quite the vocabulary for someone who’s still learning the language.” He pushed against the pony to get him walking again.

“Dis has been very faithful in teaching me.” Bilbo sniffed haughtily. “Besides, learning the words isn’t the hard part, it’s learning to put them together properly that’s difficult. Once I mastered the rules, it’s wasn't so hard.” 

“I guess they weren’t kidding when they said you were a smart one.” Bilbo could hear the smirk in his words. “No one ever mentioned you being this feisty.”

Bilbo snorted. “Well, no one’s ever mare-napped me and forgotten to feed me before.” 

“Or sassy.” Dagan added.

Bilbo snorted again. It wasn’t his job to make things easy for Dagan. 

“Ya seem awfully calm about it. Being mare-napped, I mean.”

“If you were going to kill me, you wouldn’t have waited this long or brought food for me. Thorin’s going to kill you when he finds us. I just have to wait.” Bilbo explained.

Dagan hummed behind him. “ _If_ he finds us.”

“He will . . and then he will kill you and take me home.”

“You really think he’ll come? He can’t just abandon his herd to come looking for you and they were supposed to be moving on today. Maybe he’ll just cut his losses.” Dagan questioned conversationally, as if they were talking about the chances of rain. 

Bilbo’s chest constricted slightly. Thorin wouldn’t abandon his duty to his herd . . but he wouldn’t leave Bilbo in Dagan’s hands either, specially not now that he’s carrying their foal. He knew Thorin would come for him, but he couldn’t help that little twinge of doubt. “He will come.”

Dagan hummed again. “Even If he tries, he still has to find us. I’m quite confident in my skills as a tracker and that includes covering my own tracks. The only one in your herd who even stands a chance of tracking us is Frerin and, well, I’ve already taken precautions to make sure they aren’t going to be able to work together well.”

“What did you do?” Bilbo asked concerned, his ear swiveling in interest.

“Oh, I may have planted a few little seeds of mistrust between them. It wasn’t hard. They were already on pretty bad terms. But you did make it painfully easy.”

“What? What do I have to do with it?”

“Well, I might have let it slip that Frerin is head-over-hooves for you. Of course, I had to help that idiot discover it for himself as well. But it was worth it. It was exactly what I needed to wedge between them.” 

Bilbo was quiet for a moment. “Head-over-hooves? What does that mean?”

Dagan chuckled. “I guess you haven’t learned the idioms yet. It means he’s in love with you.”

Bilbo twisted around to stare at him in surprised disbelief. “No, he’s not.”

“Oh, yes, he is. He’s got it bad, too.” Dagan was smirking but his eyes were dark.

Bilbo faces forward again, ears flicking in apprehension. He didn’t like the the look of those eyes. “Why would you do that? Frerin’s your friend.”

Dagan scoffed. “He’s an annoying brat who whines constantly about his life not being fair. I mean, seriously, the biggest problem in his life is that his brother gets everything and he doesn’t. He doesn’t even have a clue what real problems are. Well, now he’s getting a taste of some real trouble, isn’t he”

Bilbo’s anger flared on Frerin’s behalf. He didn’t think . . Frerin didn’t really . . feel _that_ way about him . . Did he? Even if he did, it wasn’t something that he should be punished for. Sure, Frerin had some maturing to do, but he had been doing better. He didn’t deserve such a harsh critique. Dagan’s last statement finally sunk in and Bilbo's heart beat faster. “What did you do?”

“You don't think the wolves showed up on accident do you?”

Bilbo’s blood ran cold and he forgot to keep walking. Dagan pushed against him to get him moving again. “You-you didn’t.” 

“Well, the wolves were already there. I just lured them to the herd. Course, even I didn’t expect to attract three packs. That was a pleasant surprise.”

Bilbo’s mind reeled as he stared ahead blankly. Mare-napping was one thing, but putting an entire herd at risk was completely different. “How? Why would you do that?! How could you do such a thing?!”

Bilbo caught Dagan’s shrug out of the corner of his eye. “I needed a distraction. Just so happened it was pretty useful for getting you out too. I'm sure they’re mostly fine. They responded pretty fast.”

Bilbo was gaping in silence. Still trying to wrap his head around what Dagan had done as they passed through a small copse of trees. 

“Oh, relax. It wasn’t that bad. Now, if I wanted to do some real damage, I would have lured in some orcs.”

“Orcs?”

“Mordorians? They’re grotesque and disgusting. ‘Orc’ suits them better.”

Bilbo’s anger burned. “You put the entire herd at risk, the mares, the foals! You mare-napped the Lead’s mate! You’re no better than an ‘orc!’”

Before Bilbo knew what was happening, Dagan grabbed him by the short curly mane on the back of his neck and yanked his head back. He pushed against him until he had Bilbo pinned against a tree.

Bilbo bit back a whimper, refusing to show his fear to his attacker, and reached back to grab the arm that had his his head wrenched back. He turned wide, scared eyes on the stallion. 

“Ya think I’m like them?” Dagan started in a low dangerous voice, hovering only inches from Bilbo’s face. “Ya want to compare me ta them? If I was an orc, I’d have slit yer mate’s throat at my first chance and then raped ya over his corpse. I would have raped ya constantly until ya miscarried, just to be rid of another stallion’s foal. I wouldn’t have bothered bring ya food or thought of your comfort.” He gave Bilbo’s head a small rough shake and Bilbo winced. “I would have dragged ya away mercilessly as a slave.”

His hold loosened just slightly and his voice gentled as he rubbed his nose along the pony’s jaw. “Fortunately for you, keeping yer foal alive is in my best interest. As long as ya have it, you’re not gonna do anything stupid and risk harming it. Besides, the next one will be mine.” He nipped at Bilbo’s neck.

Bilbo tried to pull away, but Dagan’s hand tightened in his mane, holding him still. 

“The only thing keeping me from making ya mine right here is that there is actually a small chance that yer . . previous mate and his brother might overcome their . . differences and work together to catch up.” He spoke against Bilbo’s neck, his lips caressing the skin there as they moved. Bilbo’s throat bobbed under his lips with a thick swallow. “But we’ll have plenty of time to . . get to know each other later when I’m sure yer late-lovers aren’t on our heels.” He lifted his head back up to meet the pony’s eyes, his own filled with dark promise.

Bilbo tried to control his breathing, but it was coming out as short, panicked breathes despite his efforts. 

“Now,” Dagan nipped at an ear. “We’ve been walking at yer leisure for long enough. Let’s move a little faster, shall we?” He said almost gently. “The sooner we make it away safely, the sooner we can get better acquainted.” He whispered into Bilbo’s ear before he finally released his hold on the pony. 

Bilbo stayed where he was, legs frozen and shaking in fear as Dagan’s words slowly sank in. It took Dagan pushing against him from behind and blatantly groping his rear before he could get his legs moving again. Dagan didn’t push him faster right away, seeing as how his legs continued to tremble under him making his steps clumsy and unsteady. 

When his legs were more sturdily under him, Dagan pushed him to go faster with a squeeze to his rump. Bilbo didn’t like Dagan fondling his rear, which is probably why it got him moving so effectively. He also didn’t like how Dagan stayed right behind him now. It made him nervous in light of Dagan’s confessions. Like all the stallion had to do was rear up and he’d be mounting him. 

So he kept moving as quickly as Dagan seemed to want. Occasionally, Dagan would steer him one way or another with a soft touch to one or the other side of his rump and he was quick to obey. 

Bilbo wasn't one to be easily cowed, but Dagan had been right about one thing. Bilbo wouldn’t do anything that would put his foal at risk, whether it was running off by himself, fighting back, or making Dagan angry enough to lash out. He hadn’t seen any inclination in the stallion towards violence before, but Bilbo wasn’t going to test the very real anger and hatred he had seen in his eyes.

Dagan pushed them along at a steady trot, being mindful of Bilbo’s condition and not pushing him too hard. They would stop occasionally for water and eating, but Dagan seemed determined to put more distance between them and the camp behind them.

Bilbo kept quiet the rest of the day, not wanting to trigger the stallion again. He silently obeyed and hoped in his heart that his stallion was already on his way to get him. He missed his mate so much and the stress of the situation just made him yearn for Thorin’s soft comforting touches and words even more. 

Dagan pushed them until nightfall before guiding Bilbo to a sheltered area amidst a copse of trees. Bilbo collapsed, exhausted and achy from hours of trotting. The herd rarely traveled that fast. 

He shivered. The wind was chilly even through his curls and it made it hard for him to sleep despite his fatigue. He startled when a thick fur landed over top of him. He looked up questioning. 

Dagan just stared back, not offering an explanation, before settling down not far from him. 

Bilbo still wasn’t very happy with him, so he didn’t bother offer any gratitude. Served the stallion right anyway. He tucked his fur around him and lay down, this time sleep came quickly. 

Bilbo groaned when he was woken early the next morning. The sun wasn’t even fully up yet and he was still tired. Dagan handed him a leaf and a water skin and Bilbo took them gladly. He was eating, but not nearly as much as he needed. He doubted Dagan had brought enough to last very long and he need to make it until Thorin could find him, so he had been rationing himself as much as he dared. Dagan didn’t seem to know the difference.

“Come on.” Dagan spurred him to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Bilbo groaned but did as he was told. Yavanna, he hoped Thorin caught up soon. He didn’t know how much of this he could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: The rescue team is hot on the trail but an overdue fallout between Frerin and Thorin slows them down. Meanwhile, Dagan and Bilbo have a little heart to heart.
> 
> So, I've been thinking and I'm considering writing some little one-shots that relate to the story but don't actually take place within the time frame of the story. Things like, the death of Bilbo's parents, his journey east, Dagan's backstory, Thrain and Thorin's attempt to get his mother back. Things like that and other backstories and such that happen to come up or are requested. Is that something that anyone would be interested in?


	25. Heart-to-Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it has been requested (and is my personal desire) for me to write a sort of spin off involving some Bilbo/Dagan, which I will now HAVE to write because my brain just ran with it and planned out, like, another WHOLE story line. XD While I have no intention of turning it into a separate full story, I may very well write a small series of one-shots. But, I really don't want to spend too much time on it, since the main story is my priority. 
> 
> Anyway, just though I'd let you know that that it is in the works. I also have a smutty little Bilbo/Dagan spin off for the next chapter that I'll be posting. It takes place outside of the main story line and doesn't effect it, so you won't miss anything significant if it's not your thing.

Frerin knelt on one knee as he studied the hoof prints he had noticed in the soft earth. he furrowed his brow in concentration as he felt out the grooves. Dagan was not someone to underestimate when it came to tracking expertise.

Fortunately, Frerin had secretly been impressed and fascinated by the other stallion's creative and unique methods and had studied - however discreetly - his work over the years whenever they were together. 

Which is why he knew for certain what he was currently looking at was a scam to lure them off course. “He still heading east.” He stated confidently as he stood back up.

“Are you sure?” Thorin questioned, like he had been just about everything Frerin did lately.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Looks ta me like those prints are facing south.” Dwalin put in, eyeing the tracks. 

“That’s because that’s what he wants you to see.”

“And what makes you so sure he’s still headed east?” Thorin pried.

Frerin threw his arms out to gesture to the surrounding area. “Dagan’s an expert tracker. Of all the firm well covered ground in this area he just happened to step in this soft spot?” He asked exasperated. 

“Those prints are too small ta be his.” Dwalin supplied. 

Thorin tensed at the comment. 

“So he made Bilbo walk through it. Bilbo’s smart, he’ll do as he’s told to keep himself safe until we can find him.”

Thorin glared at him, it had become increasingly obvious that Thorin as well aware of his feelings for the pony. If it wasn’t for his usefulness, he was sure Thorin wouldn’t have ever let him come. As it was, he was subject to harsh glares from his brother every time he so much as mentioned Bilbo.

“Besides,” he continued. “Going south would be stupid. There’s nothing but wasteland to the south and there’s always marauding Mordorians roaming it. He went through a lot of trouble to get Bilbo, he’s not gonna risk losing him to starvation or orcs.”

Thorin’s glare darkened. 

“Then why east? There ain’t much that way either.” Dwalin pointed out. 

“There are a lot of human settlements around the Sea of Rhun.” Frerin shrugged. “He can barter for food for Bilbo until it’s safe to come back this way.”

“And how isn’t it you know his plans so well?” Thorin challenged low and threatening. 

“Seriously?! If I had known he was planning this, I would have stopped him! I’ve spent a lot of time with him. I know how his mind works. At least-at least with things like this.” Frerin ended weakly. He had to admit, he would have never suspected the stallion of sabotage, of-of _mare-napping_!

“And yet you let him out of your sight, let him do the very thing you claim you would have stopped!” Thorin’s anger was bubbling up again.

“I know this is my fault, okay! But I never, never though he was capable of this! I’ve never seen him do anything that would even suggest that he could do something like this! I’ve known him for years!” Frerin defended. 

“That doesn’t excuse you deliberately disobeying my orders! I told you to keep an eye on him! I specifically ordered you to stay together! And you decided your desire for a mated mare was more important than your duty!” Thorin was shouting now, his control over his anger temporarily forgotten. 

Frerin recoiled at the accusations before pausing in surprise. “Wait. How do you know that?”

“Dagan was more than happy to tell me of your little infatuation, I suspect!”

“And you believed him?!” Frerin countered, hurt that even now, his word was worth less than Dagan’s, even after everything the other stallion had done. 

“Of course not! Dagan may have brought my attention to it, but I’ve seen with my own eyes how you look at him! He is not yours to want!”

“So what?! You honestly think I’m the only other stallion in the herd that feels that way about him?!” Frerin’s own anger lashed out in defense. “What exactly have I done?! Spoke to him?! Guarded him?! Or would you have preferred I stay angry and dismissive towards him just to make you happy?! I would never do anything inappropriate! Would never have betrayed you like that! And you’re angry because I, what, have been taking my duties more seriously?! Have been nicer to him?!”

“He is my mate; you have no business concerning yourself with him!”

“He is vital to the herd! It’s everyone’s business to watch out for him! You’re only angry because of my feelings, which I can neither control nor act upon!” Frerin screamed back.

They glared at each other panting from their shouting match. Bofur and Dwalin had stepped back out of the line of fire and sent each other concerned glances, both wondering if they were gonna have to break them up and neither looking forward to it. Fights over mares were always the bloodiest.

“We’re wasting time!” Frerin ended the silence. “Every moment we waste, Dagan’s gaining more ground. We can deal with this later!” He pointedly turned to start heading east again. 

“He wouldn’t have any ground if you hadn’t let him out of your sight!” Thorin was far from done, but he followed after his brother conceding that they needed to keep moving. 

“I already admitted it was my fault! I’m trying to help you get him back! What more do you want me to do?!” They continued to bicker as they built up speed. 

“Explain to me why you were so intent on earning Bilbo’s favor if you had no intention of pursuing him!” Thorin shouted over the wind rushing past them, his anger still hot and demanding answers.

“What are you talking about? I only wanted to be on good terms with him.”

“So badly that you ignored my orders to run off and look for wolves?!”

Frerin skidded to a stop, the others belatedly doing the same. “Woah! It was Dagan’s idea to split up. He said we could cover more ground and be more likely to spot the wolves that way. I told him no and he got angry. We argued but he made a good point, so I gave in. I did want to find the wolves, so you and Bilbo would both be more at ease, but it wasn’t my idea to split up. I admit it was a stupid decision, but it was not my idea to go against your orders! I thought I could trust him!”

Thorin searched his brother for any sign of untruth. “Dagan said it was your idea.” His anger seemed to have cooled slightly.

“Of course he did. When was this exactly?”

“The day he came back to camp alone. I found him and told him to tell you to report to me immediately when you returned.” 

“He said you never saw him!” Frerin shouted in exasperation. “That manipulative piece of- He’d been pushing me to earn Bilbo’s favor, even suggested I seduce him and run away with him to start my own herd! I should have known he was up to something, but I couldn’t believe he was actually serious!”

Thorin’s eyes blazed at the confession, though it seemed tempered by the fact that Frerin had never considered it. 

“Sounds like he was playin’ ya both. Tryin’ to wedge ya apart so ya wouldn’t be much of a threat when he made his move.” Bofur stepped in with his own observations, hoping to prevent another shouting match.

“Sounds like all Frerin’s really guilty of is makin’ stupid decisions.” Dwalin added, helping to talk down his Lead. 

Frerin’s head dipped in shame, but it was an accusation he couldn’t deny. 

Thorin glared for a minute as his anger cooled again, at least towards his brother. He still had plenty of anger built up for the mare-snatching son-of-an-orc. “Well, Dagan was right about one thing. . . you don’t do anything dishonorable intentionally.” He conceded with a sigh.

Frerin’s face screwed up, not sure if he should be insulted or relieved by the statement.

“Come on. We need to keep moving remember?” He waved Frerin ahead to guide them once more. 

Frerin nodded hesitantly but led them up to a steady pace. Things felt . . better between him and Thorin . . for now, though he still felt ashamed by his own foolish decisions. At least now he could stop worrying about his brother’s wrath and worry about Bilbo’s safety. He hoped Dagan wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or the foal. With those thoughts on his mind he pushed them a little faster.

_~Bilbo~_

Bilbo walked tiredly, forcing his hooves to keep moving. After another whole day of running and another short night of sleep, he just didn’t have the energy to run non-stop. He certainly wasn’t eating enough for it. 

Dagan seemed to have noticed his genuine fatigue and had started to slow them down to a walk several times a day. He had also started walking beside the pony rather than behind, which Bilbo was grateful for. It was more comfortable that way and he didn’t have to worry about being trampled if he tripped over his tired feet and fell.

Bilbo had kept his mouth shut since the last incident, but he could feel his control slipping as he became more tired and hungry. “I don’t get it.” He finally blurted as they walked.

“Don’t get what?” Dagan looked at him curiously.

“I understand hating orcs, but why do you hate Frerin?” Bilbo asked innocently.

“I don’t _hate_ him.” Dagan shrugged. “He’s just incredibly annoying.”

“Why?”

“Because his life is so good yet he never ceases to have something to complain about. I mean, he’s a prince! His herd is thriving. He’s had a good life, but it’s still not good enough.”

Bilbo was quiet for a few moments. “So, you don’t like him because . . he has a good life? And you wanted to, what, show him what suffering was like?”

“Honestly, he was just convenient for what I needed, but sure, might do him some good to experience some real suffering.”

“The herd too?” Bilbo’s brows were furrowed in concern.

“What?”

“You didn’t just make Frerin suffer, you made everyone suffer. The whole herd. Because we were happy? Because we were thriving?” 

Dagan scoffed. “Life ain’t all sunshine and flowers. Sufferings a big part of it. I’d be lying if I said your herd wasn’t due for a reminder.”

“But we were growing! We were overcoming! Why would you want to ruin that?” Bilbo was truly confused. Wasn’t it a good thing that they were doing so well?

Dagan shook his head and shrugged. “It’s not like it matters. Your herd really did have the potential to become the most successful herd/tribe in Middle Earth, but it still wouldn’t have mattered. Your just delaying the inevitable. We centaurs are on our way out. The humans are taking over. The only ones of us that are going to remain are those rotting in slavery under the filthy two-legs.”

“So, you sabotaged the herd because we were successful?”

Dagan shrugged again. “I guess you could put it that way. Honestly, I wasn’t planning anything when I first showed up, but everyone was just so sickeningly happy and you were just so perfect, I figured I’d kill two orcs with one arrow.” He smirked down at the pony, clearly satisfied with his work.

Bilbo contemplated for a few moments. “So, you really are just like the orcs?” A dangerous gleam shined in the stallion’s eyes as his smile fell, but Bilbo was too tired to care. 

“I thought we learned that lesson?” Dagan threatened lowly.

It was Bilbo’s turn to shrug. “It’s an observation, not an insult.” He kept his eyes forward, refusing to meet the stallion’s threatening gaze. “You see something healthy and you want to destroy it. You see something happy and you want to make it suffer.” He continued when Dagan didn’t retaliate right away. “You say life is full of suffering in one breath and admit to being a cause of it in another. Maybe people like you are the reason for it.”

Either Bilbo hit a sore spot or Dagan finally reached his limit, because he finally snapped and yanked Bilbo back by the mane on his neck.

“What do you know of suffering!” He hovered over the pony, more angry than threatening. “I was barely more than a colt when my herd was raided by orcs! My father and brother killed and my mother and sister taken! My brother was just a colt! They only killed him cause he wasn’t a filly!” He released Bilbo’s mane with a shove. “The herd wouldn’t even go after them! Said it was better to ‘cut their losses’ than go after such a large raiding party! So, I went after them myself! I found my mother first.” His tone quieted as he relived the memories. “She’d been carrying. So they had raped and beaten her to death and then left her there where she had fallen!”

“I kept going, hoping to at least save my sister, but I was still young, inexperienced and alone. She died taking a blow meant for me as I was trying to get her away! I was supposed to save her! And _she_ died for _me_! And then I ran like a coward! You know nothing of suffering!!” The stallion screamed at him. 

Bilbo just stared back with sad eyes. Of course. Only one who had truly suffered would seek comfort in the suffering of others. “When I was a small colt, there was a harsh winter in the Shire.” he started in a soft even tone. “It doesn’t happen very often. I was bored and tired of being stuck down in our smial. As soon as my parents weren’t looking I sneaked outside to play in the snow.”

Dagan’s anger had faded into confusion at the story, but he kept quiet and listened. 

“I didn’t know there was more than cold to worry about. There’s a river that acts as a barrier on one side of our land, but it had frozen that winter. Wolves made it into the Shire.” He shuddered at the memory. “They found me.” He lowered his head and pawed at the ground with a hoof. “They would have killed me.”

“My parents made it just in time, but the wolves were starving and it was a big pack. Two Shirelings couldn’t hold them off.” He looked back to meet Dagan’s gaze, tears threatening to spill over. “I watched them eat my parents.”

Dagan stared with wide eyes.

“I guess they were too preoccupied with their m-meal because they ignored me. My parents died because of me.” He whispered with a sniffle. “When I couldn’t stand looking at their cold, dead eyes any longer, I ran. It felt like they were blaming me.”

Dagan’s hand reached out, as if to offer comfort, but Bilbo shied away from it. 

“After that, none of my uncles wanted me in their herds, so they sent me to a gelding herd even though I was technically too young.” Bilbo rubbed at his eyes and sniffed again. “When I was old enough they decided I needed to join a herd so my parents land would be inherited back into the family, so they were gonna pick one for me.”

“So I left. And then some humans caught me.” He sighed. “They dragged me east and sold me to some human who thought the best way to make me breed would be to tie me to a post and let their stallions have their fun.”

Dagan shifted on his feet, his hands clenching and un-clenching. Bilbo couldn’t tell if it was anger or unease at his story.

“That’s when Thorin found me. He rescued me and welcomed me into his herd, but they didn’t exactly have anything for me to eat.” His tone became lighter as he thought about his mate. “They did their best, but it just wasn’t enough, not even with the goats.”

“I accepted Thorin’s mateship, Of course, and we became pregnant. But I wasn’t strong enough.” Bilbo’s head dipped down again. “My body couldn’t sustain it, so, we-we lost it.”

“It wasn’t until after the Woodland King’s gift that I could finally live without the pain of constant hunger.” He finally ended. He had been through a lot of pain in his life, but he was happy with where it had gotten him . . . Well, he had been happy.

“I’m sorry.” Dagan sympathized.

Bilbo crossed his arms, more to hold himself than in defiance, and nodded.

“But you should know how I feel then. You know suffering. Doesn’t it bother you when the people around you get to live happy, wonderful lives?! Doesn’t it just grate on you?!”

“No!”

“Why not?! Why should you be the only one to suffer?!”

“Because making others suffer doesn’t change what happened!” Bilbo rose to the challenge. “It might feel good for a moment but it doesn’t erase what happened! You're just spreading the pain! It’s an endless cycle. You were hurt, so you hurt others. And they hurt so they hurt others! Where does it stop?! You say the world is full of suffering, but it’s people like you who make it that way!”

“So what? We should just let them get away with it?! What about those humans who hurt you? What about your uncles?! Don’t they deserve to suffer after what they did?!”

“How is hurting them going to fix anything?!”

“Then maybe we should just kill them. That should end the cycle.” Dagan suggested darkly.

“Did your family dying end your suffering?!”

Dagan winced at the barb, but Bilbo continued. “People have families. When you hurt one, you hurt many! The pain and suffering doesn’t increase by one person at a time, it multiplies again and again!”

“So we just let them get away with it?!”

“We end the cycle!”

“How?!”

“By not hurting others.” Bilbo sagged this whole argument was sapping his limited strength. 

“So we just forgive them? Forget what they did? Move on?”

“I’m not telling you to forgive, Dagan, especially not those orcs. And I know you will never forget. I’m just saying we shouldn’t stoop to hurting others to make ourselves feel better. It only makes things worse.” Bilbo concluded tiredly. 

Dagan stared at him searchingly and Bilbo wondered if he could get away with sitting down until he was done. Before he could though, Dagan was urging him on. 

“Come on. The sun will be setting soon. We’ll find someplace safer and rest early tonight.” 

Bilbo almost cried in relief when he finally fell down to the ground. His legs were so tired. He must not have made Dagan too angry since the stallion was calling it a day early for his sake. 

Bilbo nibbled on his leaves tiredly as Dagan secured their little resting space. He was roused from his sleep eating when Dagan settled in right behind him, close enough to share heat, and covered them with a large fur. 

Bilbo was too tired to care. He didn’t even remember finishing his Lembas and didn’t protest when Dagan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to rest against him.

A small voice in the back of his head told him he should be angry, should pull away and tell the stallion off for his unwanted cuddles. But he was too tired, cold and hungry. His body ached and he was feeling touch deprived after being so long away from his mate and family. So he allowed it, let himself take what comfort he could from the stallion’s warmth and soft caresses. 

The voice of protest quickly faded as Bilbo sank into a deep sleep wrapped in the stallion’s warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Dagan seems to have a change in heart and Bilbo finds himself softening towards the rogue stallion. Can he find a way to spare the stallion and still get back to his mate?
> 
> It's that time again! (man how time flies) Time to choose April's Sneak Peak. As before, cast your votes in the comments. :)
> 
> The King’s Harem (Concubine!Bilbo; Explicit)  
> One of a King (Single Parent!Bilbo; Smitten!Thorin)  
> Lost in Shadows (Devouring Ring!Verse)  
> The Crime Lord and the Warden (Modern!AU; from the prompt)  
> The Sea is My Home (Merpeople!AU; Modern!AU; Sequel to ['The Sea Calls to Me'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14001684/chapters/32242623); Explicit)  
> Love at my Fingertips (Telepahic!Thorin; inspired by Yubisaki no Koi)


	26. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today, I've decided to post all my written chapters!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Just kidding! :P  
> Happy April Fool's Day everyone, but I do have a few treats for you today. ^_^
> 
> First off, [Small, but Fierce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271727/chapters/43240049) has been posted as its own work! However! I am not actively posting new chapters for it yet. But I am actively working on it. I will begin posting chapters when I either finish it or have 24 chapters written (1 year's worth of posts). I already have several chapters done so I could start posting here within the next couple months. Be sure to subscribe so you don't miss it. ^_^
> 
> Second, a new HoD outtake, [Lending a Hand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271520) has been posted to accompany this weeks chapter. It is a smutty little BIlbo/Dagan oneshot. You've been warned. >:3
> 
> Finally, here is your sneak peak: [The King's Harem](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921119/chapters/38941688):  
> The King of Erebor has a harem as instituted by Thror, King under the mountain. Thorin is the King of Erebor now and thus is expected to have a harem, much to his chagrin. He hates the harem, that is, until he is gifted with an exotically beautiful halfing to add to it. Thorin finds himself falling helplessly beard-over-boots for the soft hobbit and Bilbo seems pleased to have the kings attention. But things can never be that simple. Despite being his favorite, Bilbo is a hobbit, a commoner, an outsider and was gifted against his will. Thorin's going to have to fight politics, plots, tradition and even his own harem to keep the one he want's most by his side.
> 
> Bilbo/Thorin; Explicit

Bilbo drifted back into consciousness the next morning at the gentle prodding from the stallion still wrapped around him. He groaned in protest and felt a resulting chuckle come from the chest against his back. He was just about to drift back to sleep when something sweet was waved under his nose. His belly responded immediately with a loud grumbling chastisement. 

He huffed a sigh but forced his eyes to open and his mind to wake enough to eat. He ate his leaves, Dagan had offered him two, still pressed against the stallion. His groggy mind thought he felt Dagan nuzzle into his hair, but then he was gone, releasing Bilbo and pushing himself up to his feet. 

Dagan gave him time to finish eating and wash it down before he gently urged him to his feet. Bilbo swayed, still not fully awake and Dagan steadied him between his hand and his side. A few minutes later and they were on the move again. 

It was quiet some time before Bilbo was awake enough to be considered doing something more than sleepwalking. As his brain slowly became more alert, he realized they weren’t moving very fast and wondered why Dagan was letting him get away with such a sedated pace. 

He cautiously glanced over at the stallion walking beside him in an effort to gauge his mood. Dagan noticed his gaze and stared back, raising a brow in question. 

Bilbo's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into once empty eyes. They held a warmth that hadn’t been there just the day before. “Why are we going so slow?” He asked, hoping to cover his reaction. 

Dagan smirked. “You may be a decent sleep walker, but I wasn’t about to test your cross-country sleep-running skill. It seemed a bit dangerous.” He relied with humor. 

Bilbo’s face screwed up at the retort. 

“Now that your awake, let’s cover some ground. Give you a chance to stretch your legs.” Dagan ran a hand through the pony’s curls on his back and over his rump as he let Bilbo get ahead of him. 

Bilbo spurred into a trot, having learned to associate such touches with direction and speed when they came from Dagan. He relaxed a bit to see that the stallion wasn’t staying right behind him threateningly like he had before, but was lingering just behind and to the side to better direct and cover the pony. 

Bilbo let his mind wander as he let his legs move on muscle memory. He had no control of where they were going anyway and the movement did feel good . . for now, it would start to hurt after awhile. He wondered about Dagan. His eyes were different and his demeanor had seemed to change to reflect the new warmth displayed in his eyes. He wasn’t particularly rough before (except for those two times) but his kindness had felt . . cold, calculated. 

Now it felt different. As he thought back, he realized it might have started the night before. Dagan had never cuddled him before, never offered any real comfort, despite the pony’s declining condition. 

He didn’t understand the change. He had pretty much told the stallion off, compared him to an orc, basically told him to get over himself. Shouldn’t he be angry? He wondered about it for some time before giving up. The only way to know for sure would be to ask and Bilbo wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

Just as his legs were starting to get tired, fingers softly brushed across his back, signaling for him to slow down. He gladly eased into a walk. They continued side-by-side in silence for some time. 

“I thought a lot about what you said yesterday.” Dagan finally broke the quiet. 

Bilbo glanced up at him curiously. 

“After everything you’ve been through, I’ve only made you suffer more for my own selfish reasons . . I’m sorry.” Dagan kept his gaze forward, refusing to look the pony in the eyes. 

Bilbo studied him for a moment before turning away. “No, you’re not.” The words were harsh but his tone was resigned. 

Dagan turned to him then, but before he could argue Bilbo continued. “If you were sorry, you’d fix it. You’d take me back.”

Dagan huffed a sigh. “You know I can’t do that. If I take you back, they’ll execute me. Thorin will kill me. And if he doesn’t Frerin will.” He murmured at the end.

Bilbo shrugged. He knew he’d be more sympathetic once he was home, safe and comfortable, but he wasn’t feeling it so much just then. He didn’t necessarily wish death on the stallion, but Dagan committed a crime and was going to have to face the consequences sooner or later. “I could try to speak up for you, but I can’t promise Thorin will listen.”

Dagan paused in thought. “You would do that for me?”

“Weren’t you listening yesterday? I don’t want you dead or even hurt, really. I just want to go home.” Bilbo responded a little more snappy than he intended. “But don’t tell me you’re sorry, if you aren’t willing to do what it takes to make it right.” 

Dagan fell silent, his brows furrowed in thought or frustration, Bilbo wasn’t sure which. They continued to walk for a while before Dagan pushed them back up to a trot. Again, just as Bilbo starting to wear out, the stallion slowed him down to a walk. 

“Why don’t we take a break.” Dagan suggested as he guided them over to the river. They had been traveling parallel the river the whole time, though not necessarily within sight. Over the past couple of days, Bilbo had noticed that they were drifting closer and closer to it. Now they were practically on its banks. “A bath should help perk ya up.”

Bilbo watched uncertainly as Dagan stripped off his layers and waded into the water. A bath certainly sounded nice and it would help with . . something else that had been increasingly bothering him. He cautiously waded into the shallows. An itch had been growing since yesterday, though he had forgotten about it in his exhaustion. Now it was coming back strong and it was making him awfully uncomfortable. 

It was more . . bearable when they were moving and he didn’t have time to really think about it. When they were stopped like this, there wasn’t anything to keep the urge at bay. Hopefully the cold water would help. He was desperately missing his mate. The itch was a lot more fun when he had his stallion around to scratch it.

“Ya need some help with that?” Dagan broke him from his thoughts wearing a suggestive smile on his face. 

Bilbo blushed, realizing his body was giving him away. “No, thank you.” He scowled back through his embarrassment. Of all the times this to happen, why did it have to be now?

“Ya sure about that? I’d be more than happy to.” Dagan pushed, his smile growing.

“No, thank you.” Bilbo was determined to ignore him and waded in a little deeper. 

“I don’t have ta mount ya. I could just lend ya a hand, if ya catch my meaning.” Dagan waggled his eyebrows. 

“I’ll be fine.” Bilbo ground out between gritted teeth before pointedly dropping down to sit in the frigid water. 

Dagan raised an entertained brow at him before turning away with a chuckle. “Such a noble decision, but I doubt yer mate would have begrudged ya having yer needs met.”

“No, but he would kill you for it.” Bilbo scooped up some water to wash his face and wet his hair. 

Dagan shrugged and threw a bar of soap to the pony. “That’s not something ya need to worry about. Besides, he’s gonna kill me anyway, might as well have some fun before it happens.”

Bilbo shook his head and began scrubbing himself down as best as he could. Being clean would feel amazing. 

“Is that normal?” Dagan asked more seriously. 

Bilbo furrowed his brows, confused by the question. 

“I’m not foolish enough to think the reaction was because of me. And I noticed yer scent has been flaring up a bit. So, is it normal for it to just . . happen like that?” Dagan clarified. 

“It’s normal. Shirelings are blessed with increased fertility from Yavanna, though it varies in degree from individual to individual. But it’s common for pregnancy to cause strong . . urges at random. Normally, I would just seek out Thorin when it happens.” He ended with a wistful sigh. 

“That’s hot. Mahal, your mate is so lucky.” 

Bilbo scowled. “It’s not very pleasant when I don’t have him around to do something about it.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to make light of yer . . situation. But I did offer to help so . . feel free to let me know if ya change your mind.” Dagan winked, with a grin. 

Bilbo turned away, determined to ignore him. The water was freezing, but it seemed to be helping to douse his burning itch. It wasn’t a permanent fix, though, and he privately wished for Thorin to catch up soon. 

After washing up as thoroughly as he could, he waded out and Dagan gave him two more leaves to munch on while he dried. He drank his fill from the water skin and they started to move on again. 

They trotted along for a while before Bilbo’s fatigue started to catch up with him. They slowed to a walk and Dagan didn’t push him any faster for the rest of the day. Bilbo tried to keep up a steady pace, but found himself starting to lag behind as his exhaustion increased. 

Dagan was walking in front of him now. Bilbo wondered if he had even noticed that Bilbo had slipped behind him. The stallion was being very . . patient and kind lately. Bilbo thought about the new warmth in his eyes. A warmth that would quickly be sniffed out as soon as his stallion caught up to them. Bilbo knew there was no way Thorin as going to let him live after what he’d done.

He studied the stallion walking in front of him. He knew he should be angry, should want Dagan to pay, but to snuff out that new warmth didn’t feel right. It felt like nipping a fresh bud before it had the chance to bloom or dousing a flickering flame before it had the chance to grow into a roaring fire. 

Dagan had changed, was changing. Shouldn’t he have the chance to become more? More than a criminal? More than a lonely, vengeful soul? Something clicked in the pony’s mind as he wondered. Dagan’s eyes! Bilbo had never been able to describe them so he had settled on empty. But they hadn’t been truly empty; he had seen mischief, malice, anger and other such things hinted at in the stallion’s eyes. Now that Bilbo knew his story, he understood that which he hadn’t been able to name before.

Hopelessness. Dagan’s eyes had held endless hopelessness, easily overpowering his other emotions. He glanced back at the stallion again. Did that mean he had found hope? But the change had been sudden, what could have caused it? Bilbo wondered to himself for a few more minutes before making a decision. Hope deserved to be nurtured. That would never happen if Dagan was dead. 

He stopped and waited to see if Dagan would notice. 

The stallion must have been listening for him because he turned around almost immediately and gave him a quizzical look. 

“I’m not going any farther.” 

“Ya can’t just stop here.” Dagan’s face screwed up in confusion at the sudden announcement. 

Bilbo plopped to the ground and crossed his arms stubbornly. 

Dagan’s eyebrows shot up and he huffed a surprised laugh. “Okay. What brought this on?” He stepped closer. 

Bilbo was relieved that he wasn’t angry, at least yet. He didn’t know what else to do though. “I’m tired, I don’t want to walk anymore.”

“Alright,” Dagan nodded. “Then we’ll find someplace safer and stop for the day. Ya can’t stay out here in the open.” His eyes scanned their surroundings, emphasizing his point. 

Bilbo shook his head. “We haven’t been moving very fast. Thorin is sure to be not far behind us. You’re not gonna outrun him as long as you stay with me, so just go and I’ll wait here for him.”

The stallion’s face sobered immediately. Bilbo hoped he wasn’t planning to fight to keep him. He would lose. 

“I’m not leaving ya here.” Dagan expressed with conviction. “Yer vulnerable and unprotected. I’m not leaving ya here.” He said shaking his head firmly. 

Bilbo sighed. Why did Dagan have to be noble now when Bilbo was trying to help him? He scowled at the stallion. “If we keep going, Thorin will eventually catch up and kill you. If you take me back, He will kill you. The only way for you to get out of this alive is to leave me here and go. He won’t chase you once he finds me. I’ll make sure he takes me straight home.” Did he really have to spell it out? 

Dagan started at him with an unreadable gaze. Bilbo stared back stubbornly. 

Finally Dagan quirked a grin. “Witty, feisty and now stubborn. I’m discovering all kinds of sides to ya I hadn’t suspected.”

Bilbo huffed. He’d be offended if it wasn’t true.

Dagan closed the rest of the distance between them and sat down just a couple feet in front of Bilbo

“What are you doing?” Bilbo asked confused as Dagan reached around and pulled out another Lembas leaf. 

The stallion handed over the leaf which Bilbo took distractedly. “I told ya. I’m not leaving ya unprotected. If ya stay, I stay.”

Bilbo gaped. “You can’t just sit here and wait for him to come kill you! Just go! I’m sure he’s not far, he’ll catch up faster if I’m not moving.”

Dagan crossed his own arms. It was his turn to be stubborn now. “What does it matter? Ya’ll get to go home either way. Why does whether I keep my head or not concern ya so much?”

“Because you’re changing! I know you were suffering before, but now you found hope. I don’t want to see you die after just finding it!”

Dagan lowered his head almost shyly. “If I have hope, it’s because of you.” He met the pony’s eyes again. “If something were to happen to ya, it would steal it away even faster than death.”

Bilbo’s mind spun. Was-was this a confession? A love confession? Bilbo was mated. “I-I-“ He stuttered in response. 

Dagan heaved a great sigh. “Seems I’m no better than Frerin, falling for something I can’t have.”

Bilbo fidgeted uncomfortably. What should he say? Dagan already knew how he felt. What he wanted. 

“There is another way.” 

“To what?” Bilbo wasn’t sure what they were talking about now.

“To keep ya safe and escape with my head still attached.”

Bilbo’s head tilted in curious interest. “How?”

Dagan smirked at the response. “On the other side of the river, there should be another herd. The Firecoats from the Iron Mountains follow the river south for their migration. They shouldn’t be far from here this time of the year.”

Bilbo listened with interest. “How does that help?”

“Well, if I take ya to one of their herds, They’ll take care of ya until yer mate can catch up. Ya’ll be safe and I can make a break for it, assuming ya don’t give me up. But I’m guessing ya wouldn’t do that.” Dagan gave him a small smile. 

Bilbo studied the stallion for a few moments. “So . . you’re just going to . . let me go?”

“It seems like I made a few miscalculations when I planned all this out.” Dagan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I grossly underestimated how much ya eat, for one.” He smirked playfully at the pony, who looked like he thought he should be offended but knew it was probably true. “I obviously misread yer character and personality. But, mostly I failed to anticipate the strength of yer charm and never considered I might come to actually care about you.”

Bilbo was shaking his head by the end. “I don’t understand. I’ve done nothing but sass, insult and lecture you. How is any of that charming?”

”Ya heard my story. Ya didn’t belittle it or brush it aside. Ya affirmed my pain, my suffering. Justified it even.” Dagan had looked away but turned back to the pony. “Ya cared, ya accepted it, accepted me in all my twisted brokenness. Ya understood.”

“I told you what you were doing was wrong.”

“Yeah, but ya didn’t say it was wrong to be hurt. Ya haven’t even condemned me for what I’ve done even though yoyu more than anyone have the right to. Ya still . . care about me, even after everything I’ve done and confessed to.” Shame began to tint his words. 

Bilbo held his gaze. He understood pain. He understood how difficult it was to admit it, reveal it and expose it to criticism or rejection. That’s why he had understood Dagan and also why he couldn’t just stop caring. Pain twisted people if left untreated. Dagan had been twisted, but he was starting to heal. “I . . do care about you, Dagan. That’s why I don’t want to see you killed. But Thorin is my mate and I don’t want anyone else.” He felt the need to clarify once again.

“Yeah, I know.” Dagan sighed. “Though I wish it could be me. I would have done my best to make ya happy, ya know.” He gave a small sad smile. 

Bilbo just nodded softly. He was beginning to believe it.

“Well, the only way to make ya happy is to send ya back. And I would never forgive myself if I kept ya out here to starve or fade away in misery. So, I guess I’m going to have to let ya go.” He said as he rubbed at his beard thoughtfully.

Bilbo reached out and took his hand, making Dagan’s head shoot up in attention. He sniffled and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He wasn’t in love with the stallion, but he seemed to have grown a little attached and couldn’t help but be affected by the devotion he was being offered. “Thank you.” He pushed out around the lump. 

Dagan’s thumb rubbed over his hand and his eyes softened into a small smile. “I should be telling you that.”

Bilbo glanced at him through his eyelashes shyly and shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Ya showed me there was more to life than suffering and revenge. Ya gave me hope.” He lifted the pony’s hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on it. 

Bilbo fidgeted and blushed, quite sure he hadn’t really done much of anything, but didn’t argue. 

“Now,” Dagan squeezed his hand. “Shall we get moving again? It’s dangerous to stay in one place too long out in the open.” He stood up, tugging Bilbo up with him. 

He coaxed Bilbo along and they started walking again. He didn’t release Bilbo’s hand.

“Umm, . . so how far away is this herd?” Bilbo was going to ask for his hand back, but changed his mind. Dagan was letting him go, He could allow this much.

“No more than two days, hopefully. It depends on how spread out the herds are and how far south they’ve made it. It’s been awhile since I’ve traveled with the Firecoats.”

To days! Maybe less! Bilbo could handle that. “Have you been wandering ever since . . your family?”

Dagan nodded. “Yeah, never really found anywhere I cared enough for to stay. Herds may swell during migration, but there’s always a tightly knit core that makes up the true herd. It can be hard to integrate into it, and I’m not really a people-pleaser. It’s just easier to be alone.”

“No one should ever be alone. They should always have a home, people who love them, to go back to.” Bilbo responded softly. 

Dagan glanced at the pony. “Well, if I were to have a home, I think I’d want it to be you.” He gave Bilbo a small smile. “Since you’re the only one who has ever seemed to care.”

“I can’t be your home, Dagan. You will never be able to come back.”

“But at least I’ll have one. That knowledge alone is . . comforting.”

“It would be miserable have a home you can never go back to.” Bilbo shook his head softly. 

“Better than not having one at all.” 

Bilbo tilted his head and looked at him with uncertainty. “Then, okay . I guess?”

Dagan broke out into a grin and swooped down to land a quick kiss to the pony’s cheek.

“Dagan!?” Bilbo yelped in scandal.

“Sorry.” The stallion laughed at his response. “Yer just too adorable sometimes, ya know that?”

“I am not!” Bilbo grumbled as he wiped his cheek. 

“Oh, ya so are! It’s a wonder every stallion in the herd isn’t tripping over their own feet every time ya walk by!”

Bilbo’s face screwed up. “It’s not my fault they’re clumsy.”

Dagan paused and looked at him in surprise before breaking out into loud chortles. Guess there was nothing to wonder at, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo and Dagan run into trouble on their way to the Firecoats and only Dagan stands between Bilbo and a terrible fate. Will he make the ultimate sacrifice to see the pony safe and will it be enough to spare Bilbo's fate?
> 
> So, I know that Dagan seems kind of ooc in this chapter. But he's not. His behavior in this chapter is consistent with his personality. His perspective will be explored in a later chapter. Just bear with me. XD


	27. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!: I'm up to chapter 10 in [Small, but Fierce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271727/chapters/43240049)! Almost halfway to posting it! ^_^
> 
> Next month's Sneak Peek is going to be "One of a King."

Bilbo pushed himself as far as he could before he let Dagan stop them for the night. Knowing that there was another herd nearby where he could rest and wait for his stallion spurred him on. And if he was rushing to get there before Thorin caught up so Dagan had a chance to get away, well no one really needed to know that. 

They settled down for the night, Dagan pulling the pony into his arms again for warmth and comfort. Bilbo didn’t protest, after a hard day of pushing himself, the affection was soothing. 

_~Dagan~_

They got up with the sun the next morning and continued on their way. It wasn’t long before Bilbo noticed Dagan acting a little strange. He was tense, his eyes and ears shifting every few minutes. 

“What’s wrong?” Bilbo asked quietly. 

Dagan scanned the lands south of them before answering. “Something doesn’t feel right. There’s a scent in the air I don’t like.”

Bilbo sniffed but didn’t seem notice anything strange. Stallions had a stronger sense of smell, to better read their mares, but Bilbo’s seemed weaker. Probably because he was more mare inclined. “I don’t smell anything. What’s it smell like?” 

Dagan sucked in another deep breath through his nose. “Orcs.” He growled lowly. 

Bilbo’s ears instantly perked to attention, swiveling about with the stallion’s. His sense of smell may not be as good, but his hearing seemed pretty sharp. He pressed closer to Dagan, his only source of protection at the moment. 

The pressure at his side got the stallion’s attention and he turned to stroke the pony’s back reassuringly. “For now they are up wind. If we keep quiet and keep moving, we should be fine.”

Bilbo nodded, too scared to give a verbal answer, and stayed close to Dagan’s side. 

Dagan pushed them on a little faster, eager to put some distance between them and the source of the foul smells. They continued south, having followed the bend of the river the evening before. The herds shouldn’t be far on the other side of the river, but the water here was deep and Bilbo had mentioned his people weren’t the best swimmers. 

If was farther away, but Dagan knew there was a shallower crossing point farther south. He just didn’t know if he would be able to get them there fast enough. It would take longer and it seemed their time was running out. 

He kept them moving as fast as Bilbo could manage, but, shortly after the sun reached its peak, the wind turned on them. He cursed under his breath when he could no longer smell the vile stench on the wind. 

He pulled Bilbo to a stop and immediately started taking off his bags. 

“What’s wrong? What are you doing?” Panic rising in the pony’s voice. 

Without missing a beat, Dagan threw his sack harness over the pony, startling him, and began to tie it secure.

“Dagan, you’re scaring me!”

“The wind has changed. If they catch our scent, you will need the bags.”

“What?! Why?!”

Dagan stepped in front of him and met his scared gaze. “Because you will need to run.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened in panic. “Alone?! I-I can’t! They’ll catch me!”

“I will not let them.” Dagan growled as he cupped the pony’s face. “I would not separate from you unless absolutely necessary! And I will die before I let them touch you! If they come, you will have to run.”

Bilbo’s breathes were becoming short in his growing fear. He clung to the stallion’s wrists seeking reassurance. Dagan stroked his cheeks with his thumbs and rested their foreheads together. “I will protect you with me life.” He whispered between them. 

Bilbo closed his eyes and willed his breathing to slow. Dagan softly ran his nose along the pony’s, never before had he felt so unworthy of something. He pulled away when Bilbo’s eyes reopened. “Ready?”

Bilbo nodded, eyes still full of fear but tempered with resolve. Dagan pulled away and started to lead them on again. He didn’t like making the pony carry the extra weight, but, if they became separated, Bilbo would need the supplies. For the first time in a very long time, he found himself sending a prayer to Mahal for protection. 

They continued on as quietly and quickly as they could, making decent time for about an hour. Dagan was growing more and more tense with every minute that passed. His instincts were screaming at him. He knew the orcs must be getting closer. He only hoped they didn’t have any - 

A deep, dark howl ripped through the air. Bilbo startled so bad, Dagan had to grab him to keep him from darting in the wrong direction. 

Wargs! Mahal help them! He swung Bilbo around to face him, the poor pony near mindless with panic. “They’ve caught our scent! You have to run!”

Bilbo stared at him with wide horrified eyes. 

“You have to cross the river!”

“I-I can’t!”

“You have to! Get a running start and jump as much of it as you can. Don’t fight the current, just aim for the other side!” Dagan rushed out instructions. “When you get to the other side, run! As fast as you can! Follow the river east! Don’t stop until you find a herd! Do you hear me!!”

“I can’t!” Bilbo whimpered in distress, tears spilling over his lashes. “I can’t run fast enough! They’ll catch me! Please don’t leave me!” He begged. 

Dagan grabbed the pony by the mane and crashed their lips together in a rough, desperate kiss. Bilbo didn’t respond at first but soon seemed to calm as their lips slid and molded against each other’s. Dagan ran a hand down Bilbo’s short curly mane, stretching his hand over the pony’s small back in a sensual caress. 

He pulled away with one final lick at sweet lips and rested their foreheads together. His own breathing short and ragged now, though Bilbo’s was more even. He nuzzled the pony’s nose. “You have to go.”

Bilbo stared up at him, wasting precious time. Dagan should be pushing him away, making him go, but he couldn’t help but treasure these last few moments with the pony.

“Promise me you’ll live.” Bilbo ordered suddenly. 

Dagan’s blinked at the command. “I can’t.” Bilbo was smart. He knew what the stallion was planning to do. Dagan would die defending him, if need be. He wouldn’t lie about it, not to Bilbo.

“Promise me you will survive or I’m not leaving.”

“Bilbo, I can’t promise you that.” The thundering of hooves had come into range. It gradually became louder as their time ran out, he needed to get Bilbo moving. “Please! You have to go!”

Bilbo grabbed him by the collar and tugged him down into a kiss. Dagan froze in shock, but quickly thawed. He wrapped one arm around the pony to pull him closer while the other he buried in curly hair as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. 

Dagan nipped at a lip as he finally pulled himself away. Bilbo stared up at him, eyes clear and determined. “Promise me.”

Dagan huffed a defeated chuckle. The things this pony could do to him. He hadn’t expected to add ‘manipulative’ to his list of new discoveries. Despite knowing he was being played, he couldn’t help but go along. “Alright. I will live. For you.” He leaned down and stole one more quick kiss. He deserved at least that much for what Bilbo was asking of him. 

Bilbo studied his eyes for just a moment before giving a quick nod. Just as the raiding orc party came into view in the distance, Dagan spurred the pony into a run. He would need to build up speed before he could jump the river. 

“Remember what I said! Get to the other side! Don’t stop until you’re safe!” Dagan steered Bilbo around toward the river once he was up to speed and gave him a firm slap on the rear. 

Bilbo took off with a whinny, charging toward the water. At the last possible stride he launched himself over the river. He landed with a splash not even half-way across, and, for a few terrifying moments, Dagan watched him disappear under the water. 

Dagan ran to the bank, prepared to jump in after him, when Bilbo popped up once more with a gasp farther down river. When Dagan was sure he was going to make it, he grabbed the horn still strapped to his waist. It was the one Dwalin had given him in case he and Frerin encounter wolves on their hunts. He had almost forgotten he still had it.

He put it to his lips and sounded a long, loud blast, both a warning and a sign of distress. Bilbo waded out on the other side just as the sound faded into the wind. Bilbo turned and met his eyes. ‘Run’ Dagan mouth without a sound, and, to his relief, the pony did.

Hopefully the sound of the horn would draw the attention of the nearby herds and they would find Bilbo sooner. There was only one task left for him now. He dropped the horn, not bothering to strap it back. Even if he survived, there was no one coming to his aid. He turned and calmly pulled his bow from his back, noting with satisfaction that the orcs were just entering his shooting range. 

He quickly readied an arrow. If he was going to survive, to protect Bilbo, he was going to need to cut down their numbers before they got to him. He let the arrow fly, dropping the closest orc dead to the ground with a head shot and immediately shot another one, this time dropping a warg. 

Shot after shot he fired serenely as if it was nothing more than target practice, making sure to target the archers and wargs first. By the time they were too close for him to keep firing, he had culled their number by six orcs and two wargs. 

He dropped his bow and grabbed his dual saber daggers just in time to block a blow from the first orc and counter it with a deadly swipe to its throat. One was replaced by two and the next replaced by three. Dodging, parrying and attacking whenever possible he found himself wishing he had taken up a shield. It was almost amusing; he had never been one for shields before. He’d never been overly concerned with surviving before. Oh, well. As they say, the best defense is a strong offense. 

Three more lay dead around him when he realized that the group had seem to split. Another howl sounded off nearby and he watched in horror as the one remaining warg jumped into the river to cross, followed by several orcs. 

“Nooooo!” He bellowed, quickly dispatching another orc. He tried to chase after the crossing party but was caught off guard by one of the remaining orcs. Pain seared across the shoulder over his left front leg as he stumbled back from the attack. There were still three left on this side and one of them was huge. He was going to have to deal with them before he could follow the others. 

They surrounded him, finally getting smart and working together. One of the smaller ones charged him with a spear while the other two prevented him from retreating. He leaned away just in time to avoid a fatal blow, dropped a dagger to grab the spear and tugged the orc forwards. One swift swing and the orc was drowning in its own blood. 

Dagan sheathed his dagger in favor of using the spear. He was losing blood; he needed to wrap this up quick. The big one eyed him dangerously and ordered the smaller one to attack. Just as he moved to counter the smaller orc, he caught a glimpse of a giant mace aiming for his head. He ducked instinctively, leaving himself open for the first attack. The smaller ones club connected which his thigh with a bone rattling thud and he stumbled back to gain more distance. 

That mace was a problem and so was the small fry. He couldn’t face them both head on like this. He turned to focus on the big one, limping around trying to maneuver them where he wanted them, then waited for the next attack. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the little one come at him again, but he never took his eyes off the big orc. He needed to get his timing perfect. 

The mace came first, he dodged just barely, it being aimed for his chest this time. As soon as he had his feet planted again, he kicked out with his back hooves. The little orc's shoulder shattered with a satisfying crunch from the impact of his powerful kick. Before his back feet were even back on the ground he swung his spear with every once of strength he had left. 

He stood panting. The small orc writhing on the ground behind him and the large one collapsed in front, it’s head having rolled off to the side. He swayed, dizzy from exhaustion and blood loss. He huffed a laugh to himself. He was alive! For now anyway. Bilbo would be pleased. 

Thinking of the pony reminded him he wasn’t done yet. He turned and quickly dispatched the injured orc before looting one of their sack harnesses and grabbing several bags of supplies. He found some cloths suitable for making a few rough bandages and wrapped up what injuries he could. 

Once he was sorted, he headed for the river. There was no guarantee the Firecoats would find Bilbo before the orcs caught up to him. And Dagan wasn’t about to leave not knowing the pony’s fate. If there was a chance he could still save Bilbo, he was going to keep going. They would want the pony alive anyway. Which meant that, even if they caught him, Dagan could still retrieve him. 

He waded out of the opposite side and started off the way he had seen Bilbo go and pushed himself as fast as his injuries and fatigue would let him. 

_~Thorin~_

“I though you said he wouldn’t go south?” Thorin asked irritably.

Frerin sighed at his brother. “That was before. Obviously, he’s following the river. He’s probably trying to avoid the Firecoat herds.” 

Thorin knew Frerin was getting tired of being questioned at every turn. It’s not that he didn’t trust his brother to know what he was doing, it’s just, this was Bilbo! He needed to be absolutely certain they were on the right track. It had already been far too long for his mate to be away from the safety and comfort of the herd. Away from Thorin! He didn’t even know if Dagan had bothered to grab enough food to last him this long.

And Bilbo got tired easily lately. He must be exhausted with how the stallion must be pushing him. His anxiety was only multiplied when they picked up the scent of orcs nearby this morning. 

“We’re getting close! These tracks are fresh. They stopped here. They can’t be more than a few hours ahead of us!” Frerin announced excitedly. They were all sharing in the Lead’s anxiety.

“Then what are we waitin’ for?!” Dwalin spurred them on. 

“If we stay along the river, we should catch up soon!” Frerin assured as they sped up into a gallop, their energy renewed by the idea of finding their quarry soon. 

They had only been running for a few minutes when a horn blast echoed on the wind. They each skidded to a stop at the sound. They listened as the sound faded around them, eyes wide with recognition.

“That’s one o’ ours.” Dwalin supplied.

“Dagan must still have his horn.” Frerin surmised. “Orcs.” He stared wide-eyed in fear at his brother. 

“Bilbo.” And Thorin was off, racing after the source of the blast, the others on his heals. 

They ran at full speed and it wasn’t even twenty minutes before they came upon the scene of the attack. Orc corpses littered the ground, most dead from some form of throat slashing while others, these farther from the immediate scene, had fallen to fatal head-shots. 

“These are fresh. Real fresh.” Dwalin kicked a corpse and blood gushed from the wound.

“Dagan did . . all of this?” Frerin scanned the carnage in awe. 

Thorin looked around, Dagan seemed far more formidable than he had ever thought. 

“He ain’t here.” Dwalin confirmed. 

“Bilbo either!” Bofur looked around worriedly. 

“I’ve got blood!” Frerin knelt down in the grass. “Red blood. Not an orcs. Could be Dagan’s.” Or Bilbo’s, but no one was going to suggest that. 

“Can you track it?” Thorin asked the obvious question. 

“Oh, yeah.” Frerin returned darkly. Thorin wasn’t the only one itching for a piece of Dagan’s hide. 

Frerin stood up, wandering around the scene for a time before he finally caught the retreating trail. He followed it to the bank of the river. “He crossed the river.” He paused, noticing a set of small, deeply imprinted tracks. “I think Bilbo tried to jump it.”

“What?!” Bilbo was afraid of deep water, especially rivers. He wasn’t a good swimmer. “Bilbo would never cross of his own choosing.” Not here. The river was too wide, the current too fast. 

“He might if orcs were breathing down 'is neck.” Bofur muttered with a scowl. 

“Guess we’re crossin’.” Dwalin secured his bags as the others did the same.

The four of them swam across as quickly as the current would allow. Once on the other side, Frerin looked for the new trail. He wandered around up and down the bank, his scowl deepening at what he found.

“What is it?” Thorin couldn’t wait any longer. 

“I see three trails. Bilbo’s, Dagan’s, and some orcs. Dagan and Bilbo must have split when they were attacked and some of the orcs followed Bilbo while the others stayed to deal with Dagan.”

“Great! Anymore good news?!” Dwalin voiced their frustration. 

“Yeah . . they have a warg.” Frerin looked afraid and apologetic to be the one giving the news, as if it was _his_ raiding party. 

Dwalin cursed under his breath and Thorin went pale. There was no way Bilbo could outrun a warg. 

“We need to move!” Thorin barked them into motion.

“Why cross the river?” Bofur shouted into the wind as they flew. “Wouldn’t it have been faster to just run the other way?”

“Water don’t slow down orcs much.” Dwalin added in agreement. 

“The Firecoat herds should be nearby at this time of the year.” Frerin suggested. 

“Yeah, but Bilbo wouldn't have known tha’.” Bofur reminded. 

“Nor would he have crossed the water on his own.” Dwalin added. 

“Maybe Dagan sent him across? Sent him to the safety of a herd?” Frerin’s suggestions came out more like questions, his face screwed up to show his own confusion. 

“Would he really do tha’ after all the trouble 'e went through?” Bofur wondered out loud. 

Frerin shook his head. “I . . honestly don’t know anymore. Maybe he planned to get him back? Or this was better than loosing him to orcs?”

“We’ll ask him when we find him.” Thorin growled. “For his sake, Bilbo better be safe.”

“Not that it’ll matter for ‘im. Yer gonna kill ‘im either way.” Dwalin corrected. If Thorin and Frerin didn’t get the job done, Dwalin certainly would. 

“It does not affect his ultimate fate, but it will determine just how long I take my time killing him.” Thorin growled out.

“I’m not usually one for torture,” Frerin mused. “But I’ll admit I want to see him suffer for what he’s putting Bilbo through.”

“Plenty of time for that later. Best keep our eyes and ears open for now.” Bofur refocused them on their task. 

The four of them thundered on following the trail Frerin had found. Bilbo was close, Thorin could feel it and it spurred me him on all the harder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Bilbo is running for his life but is quickly running out of steam. A few strangers run to his rescue but will they make it in time? The rescue team finally catches up to Dagan, but perhaps he's more useful alive than dead.
> 
> Notes:  
> Okay, so, in the first, rough, mental (cause I don't write any of this stuff down) draft of this story, Dagan died here. He was supposed to die here at the hands of the orcs, but he turned out way more BAMF than I anticipated. Then again, Bilbo was supposed to get taken too, so maybe you should be grateful he turned out so BAMF? Score one for Dagan in character development. XD


End file.
